Ravens don't cross the Sea
by ForestSleeper
Summary: AV, long, and though basically finished still incomplete. I keep adding and changing chapters. Gildor's story from the First Age up to the Fourth, main part is set during the War of the Ring, when his path crosses that of a dark elf from the East.
1. Chapter 1 Cuivienen

**Ravens don't cross the Sea**

" There is a perfect freedom in the mountains,

but it belongs to the eagle and the elk,

the badger and the bear "

**Kiven'akh (Cuivienen)**

_The starlit dark_

_A few hundred feet from the water the lightless woods ended abruptly_

_A smooth expanse of grass reached down to the narrow sandy shore_

_The dark water, reflecting only the one who looked in but never the stars, was very still_

_Safety had begun to end out of sight of the water_

_Under the trees, the starlight did not reach_

_The dark under the stars was no longer fearless_

_Creatures had appeared – and wanderers vanished and did not return_

_Something roamed the woods, and it had many faces_

_The forests were shunned by most_

_Some still went in, and those who returned gave the creatures a face, a name_

_Wolves it was whispered, for their glittering eyes came even to the forest edge and looked out over the open_

_They never dared to come and drink at the shore _

_No creature of the woods dared yet_

_Hate was not yet born, but fear_

_Wolves were feared_

_They took many wanderers_

_They hunted with cunning, in packs, taking the weakest, the last in line_

_Time turned them into enemies_

_Some still went in, and when they came back out of the dark, they had become strange _

_Changed, they appeared to the others, and wild_

_In the dark of the forests, they changed_

_They survived_

_The others were puzzled, aghast _

_They lived in the dark, like the wolves, like the nameless creatures_

_They learned to hunt like the nameless creatures_

_They learned to fight and kill long before the first blade was forged_

_They hunted, and they rivalled the wolves_

_When they came to the water sometimes, they were now clad in the pelts of the creatures they had killed_

_They lived in the dark, and carried the scars of unseen fights_

_They talked, but their tongue was changed, too_

_Sometimes, they snarled and howled like the wolves_

_The others began to shun them _

_The Dark Ones, they said, and later, Changed Ones_

_Then the bright light came, blinding in the darkness_

_Rumours of a land of light, a land without dark, without shadow_

_Many were drawn to the stranger_

_Bright he was, yet more terrible than the nameless things of the forests he seemed to the Changed Ones_

_Many left the water, seeking the land of light_

_The Dark Ones remained, frightened, reluctant, in the dark under the eaves_

_The unwilling_

_After a while they came back to the water_

_The wolves came also, slowly, respectfully_

_They drank at the water_

_They took prey from each other, but they no longer killed each other_

_When the wolves returned into the forest, the Changed Ones went after them_

_Went with them_

_The years lengthened and terror grew under the stars_

_The others were gone_

_The Changed Ones survived_

_The wolves multiplied_

_From enemies they turned into rivals, and from rivals they turned into allies_

_Wolves and Changed Ones alike were taken by the nameless horror in the darkest places of the forest_

_When they reappeared they were strange creatures_

_Wolves and Dark Ones looked at them, and recognized them, but they saw that these had become like the Fell Creatures_

_They killed each other_

_Wolves and Changed Ones became friends_

_Became a tribe_

_They hunted together_

_They came to the water and drank side by side_

_Long before the Bright Ones returned with fire and sword, long before the starlit dark was broken and fragmented by a fire travelling across the sky, wolves and Changed Ones became one_

_The other Dark Ones did not love the wolves_

_Not all dared the wild life of those that had chosen the pack_

_They became estranged_

_They avoided each other_

_Then the Bright Ones returned, and fire spread in the forest and in the sky_

_The Dark Ones met them, and allied with them against the nameless evil in the woods_

_The Fell Creatures were hunted mercilessly_

_The Changed Ones were discovered by the Bright Ones, and feared, and killed_

_The Changed Ones fled and hid themselves_

_The wolves followed them_

_Wolves and Changed Ones fled and hid like all other dark creatures, and were counted among them_

_But the Changed Ones ran with the wolves, and the wolves guarded them, and taught them_

_They all feared the power of fire, and the might of the Bright Ones_

Chapter Notes:

Quote at the beginning from N. Scott Momaday's book _The Way to Rainy Mountain._

Cuivienen: "The Waters of Awakening", the place at the inland-sea of Helcar where the first Elves awoke

_Kiven'akh_: "Black Water/Starlit Mere", Ashi'kha for Cuivienen

Story Notes:

! I use '' to mark mind-speech !

I am no writer! I do _RDCTS_ just for my own fun, occupation, satisfaction, whatever. I never really intended to put this online, but after years of fiddling with this I am too curious right now to see what others might say. If you R&R, great.

For the Niggles: Better consider the chapters as separate leaves (pun intended) from the POV-character's journal, report or something like that. The Ashi'kha tales in separate chapters were told to and written down by Gildor.

Spelling is not consistent yet, I am sorry! Only the special names like Eldar, Noldor, Ashi'kha etc, should be capitalized, Dark Elf only when Eöl is referred to. Also, it should be orcs, elves etc. I intend to use Man for human in general, man for a male.

In the older chapters I changed the third person to first person-POV. You are bound to find some pronouns I overlooked up to now. Sorry for that, too.

Ashi'kha 'language': Tolkien provided a background for his language and discovered Middle-earth and its peoples. I try to do it the other way round and provide words and a way to stick them together for 'my' people. I am no linguist and it is all invented (as opposed to constructed)! Some Ashi'kha words are shamelessly based on Lakota – sadly I do not speak that wonderful language, I only own a dictionary. If there are any native speakers out there, no slight intended!

"h" is usually pronounced as a guttural "ch", "s" is always voiceless and hissing, some apostrophes in names should be pronounced with a clicking sound (as in !Kung); stress usually on last syllable.

The first 35 or so chapters (will) cover the time from the Starlit Dark up to the 3rd Age, both for Gildor and the Ashi'kha. Lots of gaps there, yet.

The 43 main chapters tell the story of Gildor and Raven before, during, after the War of the Ring and up to the Grey Havens. Complete so far, but still subject to change.

The as yet 9 or so final chapters are set in the 4th Age and mostly in Ashi'kha land in the Eastern Mountains. A few gaps there, too.

List of Chapters, rough dating, star indicates yet-to-come-chapters:

CuivienenKiven'akh, Starlit Dark (an Ashi'kha tale)

The Northern Waste, Starlit Dark (an Ashi'kha tale)

Silmarusse, Valinor

Ceremony, Valinor

Leaving, "

Across the Ice

Nargothrond

Shadows of Regret, FA 125

Fairё, FA 125/126

Glorfindel, FA 126

Bearclaw, "

Gates, "

Gondolin

Messengers

The Fall of Gondolin, FA 511

Eagles' Cleft, "

Hurondil, "

K'ashi, "

The Willowland, "

The Spiderland, "

The Wild Elves' Land, "

Darkstone, "

Silverleaf, "

Kelehan, FA 542

The War of Wrath, between FA 544 and 584

Flight to the North, "

World without Sea, SA 6

Changing, SA 8

Ost-in-Edhil, SA 750 ff.

Founding of Imladris, SA 1697

Gil-Galad, SA 3429

Last Alliance, SA 3431

Last Council, SA 3434

Barad-dur, SA 3443

Nightchaser, TA 2906

Houseless fёar, "

In the Silence, "

Stalking death, TA 2907

Caladur, "

Circles, "

Orc-Slaying, "

Raven, "

The Cave, "

Eregion, "

The Cottage, "

Never cry wolf, "

Changewolf, "

Hollin Ridge, "

Dunland, TA 2908

Why the Wind howls, "(contains an Ashi'kha tale)

Heart of Darkness (an Ashi'kha tale)

Lady of the Valley, TA 2911, year of the Fell Winter

Rivendell I, TA 2913

Rivendell II

Treating with Orcs, TA 2940

Demonhound, "

For the Knowing, TA 2950

Ghost of the White City, "

Shadows and Wishes, "

Werewolf, TA 3018

Wolf and Raven, "

Sword-edge, "

The White Towers, "

The Ford, October 20th 3018

From Winter back to Winter, December 30th 3018

Six Seasons (an Ashi'kha tale)

Only the Hawk remembers Death, January/February 3019

Lorien, March 3019

The Third Battle, March 22nd 3019

Mark of the Shadow, March 24th 3019

End of the War, March 25th to 27th 3019

Minas Tirith, May to June 3019

3020

Midwinter, TA 3020

Wolf's eyes, TA 3020

Morning Mist, September 18th 3021

The Grey Havens, September 29th 3021

Summer, Fourth Age 1

Chasing the Night, Running from darkness, Winter 4th Age 1

Logical Progression, Winter 4th Age 2

Wolf Clan, 4th Age 4

To dream of Wolves, 4th Age 7

In grey wolf-land evermore, 4th Age 8

Retracing the Lines, 4th Age 10

Keeper of the Songs, 4th Age 17

The Dream, "

Tirion, 4th Age 50

If I have not bored you to death by now, read on!

6


	2. Chapter 2 Silmarusse

**Silmarusse**

Gildor's POV

Valinor, time of the Two Trees and (obviously) before Feanor was banished from Tirion and went to Formenos

The first time I saw Silmarusse was one summer in the quarries, and I did not know her name. She rode in a cart as one of the workers delivered a load of tools. As a boy I had only seldom come into the stone-pits to deliver things or messages to Curufin from my father. But then I had come to know Angrod by chance, who was often here, and between Finrod and him, the quarries had become my place. The work there was dusty and rough compared to the delicate silver-working my father delighted in, but which I found dreary and fiddling after half a day in the workroom. I was not a learned mason, but picked up enough skills trailing various workers so that I could help wherever I was needed. Aside from my later involvement with Orome's beasts the quarries represented the only point of strong contest with my family. It was not fitting, my father would often say with a sigh, that the prince of the Vanyar should walk around with the masons, covered in a layer of sweat and dust. To which my mother usually replied that Feanor himself regularly came home 'looking like a sanded pig'.

Silmarusse, I found out later by delicate questioning, was the daughter of Aldariel of the Noldor. The family was not related to any of the royal houses and had only small holdings near the city. But she lived with her sister Elmire, in a house that subsisted mostly on its enormous garden and herds of chicken. Which was, on the whole, a very un-Noldor-like occupation, I gathered. Silmarusse, though, often worked in the quarries as well, breaking and chipping stone, sometimes going with the carts that delivered the finished blocks to their destinations, but by now driving one of the carts herself. Which again, was very Noldor-like, they said. I did not care much for any of that. She had silver hair, and the shine of that had not been quenched by the dust hanging over the pits that hot day. And she was, when I tried not to lose sight of her in the busy milling, very unlike the ladies I knew from Ingwe's court or even my father's. She worked in sleeveless vests and trousers, and the work in the quarries showed in her well-muscled arms. She was not shy, either. As she progressed from the upper levels of the quarry to where the finished blocks were stored further down she exchanged greetings and banter with the men and women she knew, objecting most manifestly to being given a slightly decrepit cart. The first sentence I heard her utter was "You think I want to be squashed flat half-way up, Curufin? Give me a decent cart or carry that lump up there yourself"

I bit my lip to keep from grinning when Curufin made a placating gesture and ordered the cart in question to be taken to the wood-workers for repair, adding a jibe I did not catch over the horn blowing for the noon-break.

But the first time I actually spoke to her was considerable time later, time which I spent partly wondering if she had suitors and partly telling myself not to be stupid to think of courting anyone yet. Let alone someone with as resolute a temper as hers.

I did not think earnestly of that either until one night father dropped a casual comment concerning 'the plans of his son' and the 'heir' of the line. It was only when I lay in bed that night that I put the heading 'marriage' to his vague allusions, and then thought that first of all, I was _way_ too young to think of marrying _anyone_. And second, that the thought held, looked at directly, very little I thought enticing. Marriage would mean all sorts of things I could vaguely line under 'responsibility', things I currently considered 'duties'. The next question then was, what should I say if father became more direct in his as yet vague wonderings and allusions? What were the plans I myself had for my life?

I was spared finding an answer in a rather uncomfortable way over the next moons. A few days later I met Silmarusse again, really met her, that is. She drove her quarry-carts up the steep road on the front-side of our main house, the side facing the city. I was just leaving on my own way to the quarries. Normally, I suppose, we would have passed each other by with either a courteous greeting or a wave. But since it was early morning the street was empty, the windows as yet shuttered, and she stopped the cart, smiling "Good day to you, my lord. Calathaura, right?"

She used the Quenya version of my Vanyarin name, as did Finrod and his brothers. I nodded, slightly mystified at her stopping and uncertain if she was going to add one of her unforeseeable jokes. Angrod had warned me of those most amusedly when I had inquired as to her family. I had thought to have been delicate and unobtrusive, but obviously he had read between the lines.

"Good day to you as well" I said cautiously, edging out into the street so as not to shout across our whole front-garden "And you are right, that is my name. Silmarusse?"

Now I was sure she was surprised. After a moment she grinned "What evil have I done that my name should be known in the house of Ingwe?"

I was tempted to say something foolish like 'you made me think I should court you', but then shrugged equally foolishly "You work in the quarries. That is where I saw you…or your hair, first of all. It sticks out"

"Yes, among the Noldor it certainly does" she said dryly "Well, join me on my humble cart if that is good enough for the royal house"

I did not give any thought to the half-puzzled objections my father would enumerate later this night, and climbed to sit beside her on the narrow seat. She talked very like Finrod when we were alone, and I resolved to treat her as I would be with him or his brothers. That seemed the most sensible and most comfortable way, since to act as if she were a lady of Ingwe's court seemed silly.

"For the royal house certainly" I said easily as the cart rumbled on over the rough pavement "Though not for my royal ass"

Silmarusse glanced at me, and then laughed "So then, what are _you_ doing in the quarries?"

"Work" I said, and grinned when she frowned "Well, that you don't skin pigs there was obvious to me. But stone-work is not your people's favourite, is it? That is what they have us Noldor for"

"I could say that onion-growing is not a very Noldorin pursuit either. That is what we have the attendants of Yavanna for"

"I see" she laughed. For a while, we sat in silence, jumping on the seat when the cart dipped into various holes in the pavement.

Our house was not far from the quarries, and they were in sight too soon for my taste. Before I could think of a proper thing to say, Silmarusse said "Well, your royal ass is welcome to ride back with me tonight. Only we'll have to go the longer way round, I will have a block on it for Errive's workshop. It would be unhealthy going down your street with that"

"Yes" I agreed, jumping from the seat as she slowed the cart by the masons' huts "It would weigh heavy on us, indeed"

She laughed again, waved, and directed the horse onward to the road snaking down into the quarry itself. Angrod grinned from one ear to the other when I opened the door "Had a ride this morning, did you?"

I took in his wicked grin and decided he was not referring to the cart "Shut up" I said.

We rode that cart together each morning and evening for that week. If there was a block to deliver, I jumped off the seat when the road around the city passed the nearest to my house. We tacitly agreed that it was not wise to be seen working that closely together so as not to raise false expectations, or worse, suspicions. The following two weeks the quarries were empty, and the days devoted to the Festival of Yavanna. The fields were tilled, and after that week of rest, the sowing would begin. An enormous stroke of luck had some cousins of my mother's to visit, from the Havens, so I was excused from any possible duty that might have fallen to me in that week. The only thing expected was to be present at the two great gatherings, and of course the family meetings. The time between was mine alone, and I used it for long rides or walks in the woods beyond the city. But I did not find the rest I had hoped for, nor the calm. My thoughts kept returning unmercifully to Silmarusse, and the longer a family meeting took or a gathering went on the more I missed her blunt speech and often more than alluding remarks. She had no respect of anything, it seemed, without appearing arrogant or condemning. We laughed so often, and at things I knew I could never have said without sending my family into fits. My closest friends were Finrod and his brothers, and, I discovered, they danced the dance of diplomacy so well that they never appeared so alien to my family as Silmarusse seemed to me. Finrod loved Amarie, father's sister – and she loved him, so their differences could not have been so striking. But Silmarusse gave me an idea how different the Noldor could be from the Vanyar. I did not know much of my mother's people, who kept mostly to themselves in their Havens, but neither did I know very much of the Noldor, except what Finrod and his brothers might occasionally let on. Neither of them, though, could afford the blunt cynicism of Silmarusse. The Vanyar, I discovered, might be in high esteem with the other kindreds and the Valar, but they were reclusive, often delimiting from the rest of the Quendi. It was not that my father advocated that or conveyed haughtiness, but there was a line there I had only once before become conscious of. I had discounted that as a boy's childhood experience, and as I grew older, had never felt it could bother me. As a people, the Vanyar were _expected_ to be 'something better', whatever that meant. I am sure no one knew what exactly it was supposed to be. Most of it rested on descent – my father had, as his name said, gold-coloured hair. My mother's was dark, as it often was among the Elves of Alqualonde. Only mine had a strong reddish cast to it, a fact my former Noldorin fellow students had picked on to hint that there might have been someone else in my line who did not really belong there. But I was no longer a boy, and both my tongue and my dagger were quick enough to quell remarks in that direction. Through Silmarusse, I heard a lot of what was spoken in Noldorin houses, especially ones that were not directly related to royal families.

But I did not worry so much about what 'the Noldor' might think about 'the Vanyar', I worried what Silmarusse might think about Gildor. And as whom she saw me. I was not sure if she did not know my Vanyarin name, or if she refused to use it. At any rate, she kept calling me by the Noldorin version Calathaura.

It galled me that as Inglor's son people's opinion should matter to me as to who I made friends with and who not. And it galled me that it, at least in my eyes, seemed like cowardice to comply and not help Silmarusse deliver the blocks at the end of the day or let her drive me back to the house. I did not know what she thought of that either, only that it had been her notion that maybe we should leave our obvious association at shared rides to the quarry and partly back.

One day's walk in the free weeks, which I started well-provided with food and drink, carried me around the city and into the woods on the other side, where I had seldom got to. They were less open and a bit darker than the ones nearer to the Trees. More greener, with the golden light shining through the thick foliage. I resolved to come here more often, on horseback, for the longer walk to and back from them would otherwise always consume a whole day. Around afternoon, when I was turning slowly back into the direction of home, hoof-beats came behind me on the narrow path. I stepped aside to wait and let the rider pass, and then felt my heart skip. The rider was Silmarusse, and for the first time I saw her in different clothes than the rough wool of the quarry-workers. She wore riding-leathers in brown and black, which increased the strange shine of her silver hair, and a wide-flowing black cape with a design I could not see wholly. I knew the large, bulky mare that pulled her quarry-cart, but the horse she was riding now was a sleek, dark-grey mare with long flowing tail and mane. She wore neither saddle nor harness, and if that had not been enough her eyes would have told me that she was one of Orome's own horses. Silmarusse stared at me for a moment, and belatedly I realized that this was the first time she too saw me in something else than the sack-like quarry-garments. With plain brown breeches and wide shirt that bore only a very small embroidery of my father's crest I considered myself very modestly dressed (my mother called it 'drab'), but Silmarusse appeared as speechless as I had ever seen her.

I coughed and grinned sheepishly "Well met again, lady of the Noldor"

Then her familiar grin was back "Same to you, lord of the royal ass. Unlikely places bring unexpected joys, it is said, right?"

"I am not sure if coming from you that is a compliment or a dire threat" I said with smile, glancing at the horse. The mare surveyed me with what I could not say was either a dark or an amused look. My experience with the White horses was nil. I only knew they were said to understand our language, though if that counted for Quenya and Vanyarin alike I had never found out. I decided to take the safe course and inclined my head to the mare "I would greet you by name, lady, if I knew it"

Silmarusse did not laugh as I had more than half expected her to.

"Her name is Faire" she said "We became friends when I started going to Orome's stables a few years ago"

She dismounted, turning her back to me for a moment. The design on her cape was Orome's, a stylized horse-head seen from the front, underlain with two crossed arrows. And her name Silver Blade, which I had been unable to find a reason for was explained as well – she carried an elegant sword with a finely engraved crosspiece strapped to her back. And not once would I have doubted her ability to use the weapon, though I wondered why she carried it here.

"Nice sword" I said.

"Nice dagger" she grinned.

I returned a crooked smile, catching her implication "I can master it"

"That assures me" She gave a mock bow "So can I, my sword"

"I do not doubt it. But why Orome's stables?"

"Because that is the place you go to if you want to learn riding and hunting. At least us common people do"

"I would be there more often if my father would let me" I said wryly "So far, I can be happy he let Loranye teach me there"

She blinked "Is it that what it means to be a king's son's son, then? To form your life to your father's wish?"

I hesitated, puzzled at her sudden graveness "To a great part, it is. Should be, I suppose. I…doubt I will fulfil that duty immaculately"

We walked slowly along the path, in the direction I had been going.

"I suppose an unchaperoned meeting like this could get you into trouble, then?"

"I am of age" I said, half indignantly.

She laughed "As am I. I assume we are about the same age. But that is exactly why it might give trouble"

I shrugged "No one is going to hear it from me. I am my father's son, not his pawn"

"So" Silmarusse glanced at me "Say, why don't you carry a sword?"

I was not sure if she mocked me or asked in good faith "Why should I, here?" I asked "And it is my father's right to carry a sword"

She laughed "And his son's to die defenceless? Interesting – no wonder your monarchy is always in danger"

"In danger?" I asked, mystified.

"What if something happens to Ingwe?"

I blinked "What should happen to him? _Here_?"

"What if?"

I shrugged, grinning "Then my father succeeds him"

"And if something happens to your father? Will you succeed him?"

I stopped and looked at her walking on the other side of Faire. Both she and the mare halted.

"I have…never thought of that" I admitted "But what could happen? Nothing ever happens here"

"Indeed" Silmarusse laughed "Here, nothing happens. That is why I go to Orome, too. He knows lands that lie beyond this shore, lands where our people came from. Lands where, coming to think of it, your grandfather himself comes from. Why don't you come there, to the stables?"

I shrugged uneasily "I never had business there. As I said+ taught me to ride there, but father seldom speaks of Orome. His service to Yavanna, Manwe…Varda"

"Yes" Silmarusse said at length "You Vanyar" She glanced at the sky, squinting through a hole in the canopy "Well, I have to go back. My sister awaits me for the festivities tonight. Well met, I say again"

I nodded thoughtfully "Well met, yes. Lady horse" I added to the mare, wondering what the heck she knew or not. Silmarusse had mounted again and now grinned down at me "I would offer you a ride back to shorten the way, but I fear that would be too much – for their eyes, and your ass"

I laughed "I prefer to walk, thank you. And I suppose your friend here will advocate that decision as well. Two would be a heavy load"

Silmarusse smiled "Faire is more than she looks. Now, I would say come visit us, but I assume it is safer to extent a formal invitation?"

I smiled slightly "Either way. As you wish"

I followed that wish sooner than I would have thought. The following week, in fact. Orome's stables were a considerable walk from my family's house, and I used the opportunity for another day's freedom. But when I arrived there, the area appeared deserted. I slowly walked across the meadows and then skirted a wide, low fence. Nearer the stables themselves a loose herd of White horses grazed in that meadow, while the other horses were in a truly fenced meadow further away.

I kept looking at the horses as I edged closer to them, half expecting one of the giant hounds to come bounding at me. I kept my attention on the herd to keep from worrying and ignore the pounding of my heart. One of the horses seemed like the one I had seen with Silmarusse a few days ago.

„Faire?" I asked cautiously. The mare raised her head at my voice, and then slowly came to the low fence.

„That is you, right?" I asked when only that one horse reacted. She was dappled grey, her eyes, muzzle and a strip on her nose darker than the rest of her coat. I felt foolish visiting a horse when I could not meet her rider, when I did not even know if I had a right to be on the grounds of Orome's own stables. But then, I assumed if I were not wanted the horse would not come to me.

"Here" I mumbled, rummaging in my pocket "I…you eat apples?"

She did. I thought she would take the whole fruit, and drew my hand back too soon when I felt her silky lips on my palm. The remaining half of the apple dropped into the grass, but the mare lowered her head after a moment of chewing, seeking it. I watched her eat, thinking how strangely her grey head-markings were remindful of a skull. But there was nothing deathlike about her or her glittering eyes, except her name.

"You know, your name's as weird as mine" I said when she looked up and I stood empty-handed "And I ate that other apple myself, I fear. It was a long way here"

"And you made it to talk to a foreign horse?" a deep voice said behind me. I stifled a yelp, and turned, almost stumbling into the low fence. A tall, massive man stood there, with long, curling silver hair and a grey, equally curling beard.

"Oh-O-Orome" I remembered to bow "My lord. I…I did not mean to trespass but-"

"But she who you seek is not here so you visit her mare. No one _trespasses_ here, boy" He came to stand beside me at the fence and rub Faire's head "In fact, you are most welcome. Why don't you come more often?"

I hesitated, taken aback. Only twice before, I had spoken to the Vala himself, and then only shortly and in company of my instructor in riding. I would not have thought he remembered me at all.

"My lord, I…my father…is not happy with…he does not think…the lands beyond…" I broke off, embarrassed at my stuttering. I could do better than that, and it was no use lying to a Vala.

"My father does not think much of the lands on the other shore. Where you hunt" I admitted.

"Ah yes" Orome rumbled "I know. But that is the Vanyarin way. A pity, for you have a way with hounds, I see"

"They have a way with me" I said uneasily "I don't do anything, they just…decide to stay with me when we are out here. And they are Finrod's, not mine"

"Ah, and he has them from me. But that is what I mean, that you don't _do_ anything. And now Faire here, that is no name I gave"

I blinked, uncertain what he meant with both.

"She who you look for named her" the Vala added, and smiled when I blushed for just no reason "But tell me why _your_ name should be as weird? There is always truth in names, even when we do not see it at once"

Once more, I hesitated uncomfortably "My mother named me Ulyalindё"

The Vala gave another rumble "Song of the Rain in Quenya, yes? Now, why should that be weird, Calathaura? There is no light without rain, nor the other way round"

I shrugged helplessly "There are no storms over the…mountain" I said after a moment.

"That is so" Orome looked at me, and I dropped my eyes, feeling that he, too, must see the unfittingness of that name.

"There need be no storm here in this land for there to be calm, yes. Not on this side of the sea. But in the lands beyond, where I hunt, that is so. There the storms are as magnificent as the starlit night is peaceful"

"Tell me of those lands" I said involuntarily, hastily "Father has never seen them, nor does he want to. And grandfather will not even speak of them"

"Come" Orome said "I will show you the stables you have not seen on your visits here"

He led me away from the meadow, and slowly across the main yard.

"The lands on the other side are dark and wild" he said as we walked "There is no light there save the stars, and often clouds hide them from view. The forests are thick and high, and many beasts live there. Some that don't live here"

We passed the stables I knew and went into another door. The strong smell of bird and dry droppings greeted us.

"Now these are the mews. Rife for cleaning again, I see. This is where the hawks come to sleep at night, if the weather drives them in. They usually take the low perches down here. And the owls are in here at the moment, to leave at night. See them up there?"

I squinted into the dimness as Orome pointed, and saw the huddled and puffed up shapes sitting on the high rafters. Near the top as well as in the back-wall there were large round openings to allow the birds free access and exit.

"Ever hunted with hawks or owls?"

"No, my lord"

"Hum, hm…" Orome strode through the mews, ducking the lowest perches "Well, we have time to change that. Now, over the sea you will not find birds this large. They are all half the size, and all seem to be of owl-kind yet. They must hunt in the dark always, you see. And in the deep forest, wing-span as this one there-" he pointed at a large hawk sailing in through one of the holes "-would only hinder the hunters there"

"There are no eagles here" I said, having truly expected the kingly birds to be with Orome as well. He laughed "No, of course not. They are all up the mountain. It is seldom one of them brings a message here"

I felt heat creep into my cheeks again, but hoped it was dim enough it would not be visible.

"What do they live off there, the birds?" I asked.

"The same as here. Mice, hares. Frogs. Now come, I show you the hounds"

I followed him across the yard again and into the third door. This led to a great hall filled with straw and intersected with open boxes. A number of hounds lounged there, some curled up in their nooks, others sleeping in heaps. Some were even more massive and wild-looking as those Finrod sometimes left in my keeping. A lower door stood open to the fields beyond. The hounds, too, came and went at their will it seemed.

"The likes of them, only greater, more ferocious, and wild, you have in the lands beyond" Orome said "It is wolf-land there, and not all of them go their own way anymore"

"My lord?" I forced myself to ask when he did not elaborate, surveying the hound's hall.

"Oh, the Dark One has changed them. It is them I go to hunt mainly, them and other monsters he has set loose"

"So they are different from the…other creatures there? Those you do not hunt?"

"Very much" Orome closed the door softly behind us "They hunt no longer, but only kill for the sake of it. It is his orders they follow"  
I vaguely wondered why he was telling me things my own father had not seen fit to tell me. Maybe because Inglor knew nothing about them, maybe because he did not care about the lands beyond. I was aware it was not for me to question the Vala's motives, but I was close to asking him why only he returned when all others did not, when an interruption I had dreaded and hoped for occurred.

"Ah, now that is convenient, don't you think?" Orome rumbled into his beard.

Silmarusse had turned up, on foot and carrying a basket. The Vala strode forward to meet her, and I hung back.

"My lord, I have brought the herbs you asked for" Silmarusse said, appearing not in the least daunted by speaking to the Vala "May I ride out with Faire, if she agrees?"

Orome inspected the basket with an air of satisfaction "You need not ask me for permission, girl. Faire has chosen you and that's that. But I suggest you take one of the other horses with you for your company to ride"

He stepped aside and forcefully gestured me forward.

"Er-hello" I said stupidly, wishing the earth would swallow me.

Silmarusse blinked, but then laughed "Now if that isn't splendid. Did you come looking for me, or did you just get turned into my escort?"

"Er-yes" I said, and hurriedly added "Looking, I mean"

"Yes" Orome said meaningfully, smiling "I found him talking to your horse. You know she eats apples after all?"

"She does?" Silmarusse looked at him, puzzled, then she grinned as well "Indeed. Well, then, my escort who came looking for me, come and I will show you a tractable mount. The one Loranye always gives you is a mean beast"

I followed her, feeling out of my depth completely "Is she?"

Silmarusse opened the stall of a dark brown mare "Compared to this one, yes. You can ride her bareback like one of the White ones. She too likes apples" she added with a grin.

"I don't have any, anymore" I said.

"Look in that door, there should be a basket. And you can take a handful with you. Keeps her happy. I am going to fetch Faire"

"What is that about apples?" I forced myself to ask before she left.

"Faire never touched an apple before, as far as I am informed. She seems to like you" Silmarusse grinned, and returned a short time later with the grey mare trailing her.

"So you took our invitation" she said.

I nodded mutely, then reminded myself to speak "Yes. It was too good to waste, you see?"

She grinned meaningfully "I hope you say that when we come back here. I intended to ride to the coast"

I groaned softly. To the coast and back was a _very_ long ride. Plenty of time to find all pitfalls there could be for us.

The ride did not extent into a veritable catastrophe for my pride. Instead, the hours with Silmarusse gave it a boost to the point that third time I met her was, for once, solely by my own design. Since she had so casually said just when she saw to the garden of her parent's house in the city I contrived to walk that street on the day in question, and indeed she was there. And she was alone. I felt my heart skip, but then nevertheless ambled up to the fence of artfully wrought iron. When she saw me, she grinned broadly and came over, ramming her spate into the ground and leaning on the handle.

"No quarry-work today?" she asked with a cat-grin "Won't your royal ass miss the cart-ride?"

I grinned back "I could reply something very different to this, but for politeness' sake I will only say that my royal eyes missed the sight of you"

I was aware that my father would have been positively scandalized at this exchange, and that Finrod would have been delighted. Silmarusse laughed "Liar"

"You challenge my honesty?" I demanded.

"No, your sanity"

"Well, I have enough honesty. But I cannot attest to the sanity" I plunged ahead "If I would not lie, I would have to say I am courting you"

She blinked, and for a moment, I inwardly kicked myself. What was I doing here? Determinedly proving I had not a scrap of sanity! What did I know of her, or her motives? She had more friends than my family servants, what made me think I could mean more to her than any other of them!

"Would you?" she asked. After a moment I realized she had spoken to me.

"Yes" I said softly, feeling my cheeks burning now.

"So then" she laughed suddenly "That is something I can say for sure has never happened to me" She bowed, and tugged at the plants at her feet, holding a flower in her hand when she came up. She stuck a grimy hand over the fence with a flourish "Be glad we are here now, because if we were in the quarry, I would have to give you a lump of rock to say I would be more than pleased to accept that courtship"

Now _I_ blinked, and then slowly reached out to take the flower. It was an onion-bloom. I grinned "You could not have given me the other end of that, do you think? I could have cooked that"

"Not ripe yet, sorry" she laughed "We have last year's, though. I could bring one of those tonight, if you like"

"Tonight?" I asked blankly.

"Of course tonight. I have _work_ here, my lord Calathaura. But the Great Oak is a nice place, don't you think? Especially at the Mingling of the Lights. You can see the Trees from there quite well"

It felt as if my brain had to forcefully engage itself again "Yes" I managed to say "It is a wonderful place…then"

Chapter Notes:

Silmarusse: (aQ) "silver blade"

Elmire: (Q) star-jewel

Loranye: a Vanyarin elf of Inglor's household

Calathaura: Linguists (and purists) turn away for a moment, please. For the purposes of this story I assume that both Inglor and Gildor are _Vanyarin_ names, and that Gildor sounds the same in Vanyarin and Sindarin. Calathaura means 'mighty light', which I use as Quenya version of Gildor. I also took the freedom to make Inglor Ingwe's son (Ingwe's son was in fact Ingil (_The Book of Lost Tales I_) and Amarie Inglor's sister. Which is convenient to have golden hair on Gildor, to explain his epesse Inglorion, and to make his decisions in the planned but no yet finished chapters sufficiently scandalous.

Faire: (Q) phantom, ghost, death. It is nowhere said if the elf-horses were longer-lived than 'mortal' horses. But they are called "elf-horses", and for this story I assume first that they are 'more intelligent' in terms of elven or human definition than simple horses, and second, that some, like Faire, who have been born in Valinor and lived with Orome, were indeed as immortal as their riders.

I assume that swords were already worn at this time, though in fact the _Silmarillion_ says this: "And when Melkor saw that these lies were smouldering, and that pride and anger were awake among the Noldor, he spoke to them concerning weapons; and in that time the Noldor began the smithying of swords and axes and spears. Shields also they made displaying the tokens of many houses and kindreds that vied with one another; and these only they they wore abroad, and of other weapons they did not speak, for each believed that he alone had received the warning" ("Of the Silmarils and the unrest of the Noldor").

! There is a great gap between this chapter and "Shadows of regret". I have not yet had time to beat the 5 chapters in between into readable form ! They will cover the Ceremony ensuing from the charge against Gildor and Silmarusse, the time of Feanor's rebellion and the leaving of Valinor, the crossing of the Helcaraxe, time in Nargothrond, and the battle where Silmarusse is killed.

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	3. Chapter 3 Shadows of Regret

**Shadows of regret**

Gildor's POV

Beleriand, FA 125

My hands shook so badly I could hardly hold the crumpled sheet and pen, let alone write. Finally I managed to find some, though by no means the right, words.

"_Gildor, rider of the second division of far-scouts, to King Finrod of Nargothrond, on the 20th day of Yavannie. My lord, our company was attacked by orcs at dawn. We drove the attackers off, but were ambushed further northwest in the hills, near the source of the River Nenning and east of it. All except Carno, Nimheleg and myself were slain, and great part of the orc-force escaped westward, crossing the river with some losses. Though Macil was our leader at that time I had the front. Responsibility for this must therefore rest on me. _

_Silmarusse is dead. Without her, I have neither the right to nor a place in your court. I will not return to you, and send Carno and Nimheleg to you with this message. Until reinforcements will reach us here, the trail is cold. I will follow them now, and avenge what I can. My lord, though I go about this wilfully and without your leave, give me your blessing to do as I see fit. Calathaura of Tirion_"

Three horses beside Faire had survived the attack. Carno and Nimheleg mounted and after a last attempt to have me go back with them, hastened away southeast. It was getting dusky. We stood beside the wrapped body of Silmarusse, Faire and I. The new cairn which the two scouts had hastily raised while I had gathered firewood was a dark lump in the early night. No. I could not imagine burying her that way. I could not imagine she would have liked the idea. Let them think what they would. I knelt beside the pyre and struck flint over tinder until my hands were raw. It took painfully long to set it all to burning, and when the wood finally caught it was not enough. In wild rage and desperation I reached out as I had been taught _not to_, and seized the power lying deep and buried in the very land, using it to drive the tiny tongues of flame into a blaze that finally encompassed the whole pyre. Light and smoke rose from it. I did not care which eyes saw this. In fact, had they come I knew I would have killed them.

When the flames of the pyre had died away, I knelt beside the cooling ashes. Though my thoughts churned, I cannot remember what I thought. At one point, I could not endure the mental pain any longer. I knew it was not the way of my people, but it had all become meaningless except for the agony of loss. I wanted to cry, to scream, but everything in me raged against that. I got up slowly.

"_Not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains_"

There would be no lamentation, no vain echo from me. I closed my hand on the blade of my dagger, gripping so that the edges cut into my palm. With one swift motion I pulled the blade down, clenching my fist on the cuts until the blood dripped from my hand and into the ashes at my feet. Silently, I swore to find every orc of that company, and to slay them face to face. I had cut deep, but soon the blood ceased to flow, and only a dull, throbbing pain remained.

It was far into the year of my stalking and killing whichever orc I could find that by chance a return message of Finrod reached me. It was in a plain, black scroll, signifying that no return answer was expected. By the look of it, it had travelled around after me for considerable time. I did not stay with the scouts who passed it on, and rode away from them that same day, unable to bear their company. As night fell, I ensconced Faire and myself in a sheltered ring of stones in the foothills, with a high wall of stone at our backs. I sat on the grass leaning against Faire's warm foreleg and finally opened the scroll with a cold weight in my gut. Finrod had a vast amount of understanding, but I assumed I had gone a step too far in this.

"_Finrod, King of Nargothrond to Gildor Calathaura, on the 24th day of Yavannie. My friend, you have the king's leave in retrospect and my goodwill regardless. I will rather lose your service than your trust. _

_I received Carno's report also; it is the nature of an ambush to be unforeseeable. I hold all of you blameless for that. Knowing your temper, I beg you to be cautious in your errand. You lost much to gain what Silmarusse and you had. I know you will think with her death you lost all. It is not my part to judge that, but I ask you now what you asked me on the Ice: do not forgo hope yet. _

_You never considered yourself part of my court. For myself, I consider you part of my house. May your hunt be successful. Fare free. Findarato of Tirion" _

It was not what I had expected, or rather feared. Relief and regret fought a vicious and ultimately undecided battle in my heart. It was a very long while until I rolled that message up and returned it to the scroll-case. Then I lay down on the grass and trusting Faire to guard for us fell into a deep, exhausted sleep.

Chapter Notes:

"And those that endure in Middle-earth and come not to Mandos shall grow weary of the world as with a great burden, and shall wane, and become as shadows of regret before the younger race that cometh after"

(_The Silmarillion, _"Of the Flight of the Noldor")

Bit farfetched explanation for Gildor's by-the-way claim in the _Lord of the Rings_ but I liked it.

Carno: (Q) brave

Nimheleg: (S) white ice

2


	4. Chapter 4 Faire

**Fairё**

Gildor's POV

Beleriand, FA 125/126

It was a cold evening in late winter when Faire and I ran down the last Orc of the group. The leader, the one who had killed her. The villain chief who dared to kill an enemy from behind. I remembered the face, the stench of the creature. I would pound him to mash. I was not finished until this Orc was minced meat, until even the dirty armour was fragments disappearing in the mud.

_'stop now'_

I ignored the mind-voice.

_'mad. stop' _

She nudged my shoulder, and I shoved Faire's head away. A moment later she almost bowled me over, driving me away from the mutilated corpse relentlessly.

"Damn you horse" I made a grab for the halter to pull her head towards me. I had lost my sword when she hit me. Faire tossed her head slightly, coolly flicking the reins out of my reach. Her grey, dirt-smudged shoulder loomed like an impassable wall in front of me. My blood was pounding in my head, fury and pain making me shake.

"You tell me to stop?" I demanded furiously "You should be raging! She was yours, horse, your rider! You chose-" I broke off abruptly. Faire turned away slightly, relenting her forbidding pose a bit. Her fore-hooves squelched in the bloody mire. I dropped my eyes in embarrassment, staring at her legs spattered with Orc blood and gore. Though I was panting breath seemed to avoid me. Faire turned, resting her soft muzzle lightly on my shoulder.

'I have. So have you'

She blew warm horse breath across my cheek. I squeezed my eyes shut for a long moment. Red sparks still seemed to dance before me. Rage and sorrow mingled incoherently, still as fresh as if it had not been almost a year ago. We stood motionless for a while. Somewhere in the canopy the first ravens croaked hopefully. _Yes _I thought savagely. _Come, pick their cursed bones clean. Better even, scatter them over the cliffs -._

I raised a trembling hand and touched Faire's head lightly. A glancing swipe had cut across her brow and the red stood out against her greyish coat.

I laid my dirty and bloodied hands on her head, calling up the few direct healing skills I had. I could not concentrate properly, but it would be enough. She would not retain a scar.

'I'm sorry, Faire' I said finally, stepping back to look at her. The general-sized armour of our horses was too large and heavy, so Silmarusse had designed and built leather-padded but light steel pieces to fit Faire. By necessity it could only cover her chest and rump, leaving her legs and belly unprotected. All her coat was covered in mud and blood, bits of gore and flesh clinging to her. But except for a few shallow cuts she was unharmed.

I had not known horses could kill with their teeth –.

Faire could. I remembered their doubts, back in Valinor, that she was a hunter's horse and not a warrior's. Even Orome had doubted her suitability for combat. Numbly, I turned back to the remains of the Orc-leader and retrieved my sword out of the mired carcass. _They should have doubted mine _I thought bitterly. Faire had survived the Ice, sometimes carrying both Silmarusse and me at once. She had survived our first encounters with Orcs, the first battles.

I stared at the dead Orcs. I felt the burning, wrenching desire to destroy even more. Hate rose, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth. I clutched my sword so hard I thought my knuckles must pop. Nothing I could do would abate what I felt. Nothing. I spat at the corpse and turned abruptly.

'Let's go'

It was many days still until the first dawning of spring and the forest was silent and empty. There was no green yet, and only a few birds piped occasionally. I trudged through the bleak forest almost unseeing. The dead leaves underfoot swallowed all sound, it seemed. Only the occasional thud rang loud in the early evening when Faire hit a root hidden under the leaves.

She trotted wearily just behind me on the game trail, her head low. Only her ears twitched, keeping track of our surroundings while I fought my own bleak thoughts.

I had finished what I had set out for. The purpose that had driven me the past year was gone. The Orcs were dead, all of them. _Avenge me_, Silmarusse had said. Flippantly, one night, some time before we had left the West. The Prophecy had not been spoken or heard then, but already they said that swords were always two-edged. It seemed a whole life ago.

I had done that. _And remember my laughter_. So she had said as well. But I could not do that. Not yet.

So what now?

We came across a brook and drank side by side. I splashed a few handfuls of cold water into my face and leant against the nearest of Faire's forelegs, resting my head against the warm fur. What should I do now?

_First of all see to your horse._

I forced myself to concentrate on the land. A place to rest. Was there a cave near? I snarled softly when even now a thin drizzle started.

'Do you know a place?'

'No' Faire sounded as bleak as I felt. The reins slipped over her mane as she lowered her head to drink again. Faire flicked her ears in disgust when the reins snuck behind them. I got up with a sigh and stretched my aching muscles, then snapped the reins off the rings of her halter and knotted them under her neck. I was not going to need them now anyway.

Silmarusse had worked out a curious way of fighting on horseback, and had steadfastly ignored the sideways glances of the other elves. The dark elves rode with harness, they said, but the High Ones? In fact, I thought darkly, the reins had been Faire's idea. In combat a quick jerk was more effective than mind-speech. When she had chosen me as her rider I had quietly adopted not only Silmarusse's version of Faire's armour but her way of riding as well.

I would have had little chance changing anything against Faire's will anyway.

The day darkened. A thin layer of moisture gathered on my armour and clothing. The cinches and metal pieces reinforcing the leather turned slippery. I felt dirty and on edge. Though she was silent I knew the same went for Faire. Always unconventional, Silmarusse had soon tried to speak with her mount on a much more intimate level than I had then thought possible. Some practice was needed to find the right approach, and blank spaces remained where horse-mind and elf-mind simply diverged too much, but we could exchange more than the immediate emotions or desires that usually made up communication with the horses. That Silmarusse had, as my people said, 'risked' going to the deeper level now allowed me to communicate with Faire beyond the scope of immediate things as well. In the one year since Silmarusse's death I had done my best to deepen that bond. I could not only pass on orders, simple information or emotions, I could actually talk with her and she with me.

We found a patch of close standing pines which evergreen canopy kept out most of the fine drizzle. The lowest branches were about the height of Faire's chest, and we had to scramble for a large enough entrance into the midst of the trees. There at least Faire could stand comfortable without her upper half sticking into branches. With clammy fingers I fumbled the straps of her armour and harness loose, slipping on the damp and slimy leather. It would be hard work cleaning the things, I thought as I lowered saddle and armour plates to the ground in one piece. Leaving the pieces connected wasn't what I preferred, but should things turn nasty I had Faire re-saddled in moments and we could be off. Sweeping my tangled and dirty hair out of my eyes I fished in my pack for Faire's brush. In some places the blood, gore and sweat had dried and I could brush it out of her coat. I worked slowly through the tangles in her mane and finally managed to calm down enough to feel tired.

Faire finally interrupted my attempt to rid her coat of the dirt and told me to get some sleep. There would be no fire again. I could count the times we had rested in dry places with a fire for warmth and hot food on one hand. Faire sniffed the ground and scratched a little with her fore-hoof in true horse fashion before turning round and round and finally lying down with a soft thud. She would keep watch for a while despite that, I knew. Even when she dozed I dared to sleep. Her horse senses warned us more accurately than my own.

I did not bother to remove my own armour. Most of the time I slept in it. I pulled out a blanket and realized even my bedroll had got dirty in the fight today. As soon as the weather allowed it I would have to stop and find a place to get my clothes and blankets washed. Pulling the smelly fabric up to my chin I lay down beside Faire, grateful to close out the forest and feel a breathing body near.

Spring came swiftly and the weather turned unusually warm. After a few hellish days of continual rain a bright sun burned the clouds away and cast a sweltering and damp heat over the land. A strong smell of decaying leaves and fresh green hung over the warm ground. Waiting for the sun to bake the last moisture from my freshly scrubbed and faded clothes and blankets I could see Faire some distance away, foraging for the first spring greens. She had found a shallow pool a few days ago, and by now the last mud and bloodstains were gone from her coat. I had tended the cuts on her flanks and legs, and the wounds had healed well. Her light grey coat, turning to a darker grey on her rump, shoulders and legs shone eerily in the misty sunlight between the still mostly bare trees.

I rubbed my bruised ribs absently. I had not fared as well as Faire in the last battle, but the still constant pain failed to make me feel victorious. What use had my revenge been? Nothing brought Silmarusse back. Nothing ever would. Anything I did was useless, now as ever. We had come here, fled here, to Middle-earth, to find a life for ourselves. And when we finally seemed to have it, had fought the first battles and decided them in favour of the returned exiles, everything was snatched away from us.

I had Faire, I reminded myself. Sometimes I felt the mare was my last and only connection I still had with Silmarusse. Would it have been wiser to follow the way of my people and take the traditional vows? Sometimes it seemed easier to know and feel oneself bound to partner who was dead than to stand all alone and unbound. Sometimes it seemed wiser to have taken the vows and not tried to fool the Valar. Not opposed them at all. Then, if they ever granted it, we might have met again. If we had, if we had not, if they did.

_If, if, if. _I dropped the stone I had used to sharpen and smooth the edge of my sword and lay back, closing my eyes and turning my face to the sun. Faire carried something of Silmarusse with her. Did she know, I wondered. It was useless to ask her. Whenever I had approached that topic, Faire had either not understood, pretended not to understand, or flatly refused to answer. If that was her intention or if our connection failed there at one of the blank spaces I could not say.

At least it was a fact that I found my horse's company preferable to that of elves right now.

Which did not at all help me to set a new direction. I wanted to be alone, I wanted company. I could not face living in a city, and the thought of the cities nagged and drew me. Faire was here, but that was it. She refused to be a counsellor. She had chosen me and would follow me. But decisions were mine, whether I chose the wild or the city.

A few days later part of the decision was taken from me. I knew I was near some settlements, but those were human villages. Small, but nevertheless the woods around them seemed to get crowded, as if one village took thrice as much space as a patch of forest of the same size. Faire scented the hunters early, and I was forewarned. I considered avoiding them, but that would have taken me much closer to one of the villages than I wished. So I let Faire continue her slow walk along a small brook and waited for our paths to cross. They did soon enough, but to my pleasant surprise the five hunters turned out to be elven scouts.

They were happy enough to share their supplies without expecting a return trade. When they heard of my intention to move further east they asked me to carry a message to a large group of elves I was bound to encounter. They had fought Orcs themselves a few days ago, and quietly listened to the skeleton version of my own meeting with the creatures. When I described the Orcs' armour they frowned. Obviously the group I had tracked on my own had been on their way to a larger group that was getting strong in these parts. I had been lucky to intercept them before they had met up with their intended regiment.

The next day we parted ways and I continued east. Sure enough Faire soon scented the faint traces of smoke that always came with a company that did not travel fast and light. Also, the odour of other horses, of hounds, and of cooking reached her sharp nose. I watched her ears prick with interest and drop back suddenly, echoing my own conflict. She wanted to go there, and at the same time felt deeply apprehensive, though she mainly thought fondly of dry and safe tents, hot mash, oats and hay. She would exchange all that for her own grazing and foraging any time, but after a year of constant watchfulness, little food and rough weather the possible stable-tents seemed very much desirable to her for a while, I guessed.

'Let's have a look what we're in for' I said after a while of uncertainly standing under a huge oak. The first tiny buds of green showed on the tips of its branches now 'If we don't like it, we just drop off the message and are gone'

'Yes' Faire agreed with a silent sigh 'Maybe they trade oats this time, not smoked meat'

I smiled wryly 'I'm sorry there was nothing in there for you with the hunters. I promise I'll exchange news only for oats or mash this time, alright?'

Faire snorted softly and picked up her smooth pace a little. I tugged at her mane lightly 'You are still angry the scout said it was human trappings, your gear'

She flicked her tail angrily 'Next time, I kick'

'Do not mind so much' I said after a while 'It is he who would have rubbed his ass raw riding his wet horse after crossing the river'

'It is he who would have drowned in the Ice without saddle straps to hold on to' Faire said darkly.

I hated to remember the Ice, and even more to remember all the close shaves. And all those we had lost in the crossing. Many elves and horses alike had not left the ice. Faire had, probably because of sheer luck. But Silmarusse and I, we had left the Ice because we had been able to cling to her saddle with half-frozen fingers when the ground had given way under Faire's hooves and pitched us all into the icy sea. Maybe if Turgon's stallion had worn a saddle Elenwe would not have lost her hold on him when he slipped.

Maybes were as useless as ifs. Faire tossed her head slightly, half in question, half in invitation to run. I gave her silent assent and she fell into an easy canter. The distance between us and the camped company dwindled, but for a while I managed to follow Faire's example and empty my mind but for the swift forward motion and the thudding of her seemingly tireless hooves.


	5. Chapter 5 Glorfindel

**Glorfindel**

Glorfindel's POV

Beleriand, FA 126

I grimaced in irritation when I managed to spill the second drop of ink on a report I had begun just seven lines earlier. At least this time it was not my own impatience but the startling interruption of a messenger, throwing back the tent flap without bothering to announce his presence before.

"There is an errand rider out there waiting for you, sir" the young elf panted "He has a message from Hórean he says, and was asked to give it to you directly. Also, he refuses to enter the camp"

There were several questions I could have lavished on him, but he continued hastily "He has a message from Hórean he says, and was asked to give it to you directly. Also, he refuses to enter the camp"

"Bless him" I said fervently, rolling up the paper "That gives me even more time away from this silliness"

But a message from Hórean – _a message from Hórean_? That took a double turn to enter my mind. If anything happened, Hórean or one of his scouts were expected to return. How could he have sent someone to us who was not at all part of his riders? And even if, how was that someone allowed to find us? Well, yes, we had not only Turgon's promise that we would pass safely but Ulmo's himself. I had to confess that I did not trust wholly into that and provided my own guards as well. After all two thirds of my travellers here were definitely not warriors but nobles, craftsmen, healers and farmers.

"What was the name did you say?"

Of course the runner had forgotten to mention a name in his hurry "Er…he said to call him Calathaura, sir"

"Hum" I felt vaguely reminded of something but could not place the memory. I left the messenger at the inner guard ring and continued to the edge of the camp alone. Delicious smells of evening cooking were already beginning to rise from many tents. This was a more elaborate camp than we usually made. Though I was grateful for a few nights in a tent and some warm meals I was not happy with the delay. Camps like this were prone to attack. I wondered if the runner had missed another important direction when the entrance appeared to be deserted except for the general guards, but then I saw a foreign horse grazing a little distance away from the camp. It was a saddled and armoured horse, carrying the scratched pack and bedroll of someone who obviously spent his time outdoors. The mare wore a halter with reins, which puzzled me considerably. Few of our horses I knew would tolerate such harness. The almost sardonic look I saw in her black eyes told me very clearly that she was one of the true elf-horses, though, not of the half-breed herds emerging now. And that she knew every thought in my mind.

The elf leaning casually against the mare's shoulder had dark-golden hair which he had half-heartedly combed and tied into a loose tail. His clothes were clean, but travel-stained and mended in several places. The original cut I recognized as belonging to the royal houses, but there were no badges or clan patterns visible anywhere. The cloak he had obviously traded for with wood-men, and all garments were in shades of darker grey. His armour consisted of well-worn leather pieces that had been reinforced with metal in places. They were discoloured from use, and the sheath of his sword, which he had slung across his back rather than fastening it to the horse' s armour, matched the faded colour. And he was Elda. Fair hair like his was unusual among my people, so I ought at least to have seen this man before, but I found myself at a loss. He straightened when he saw me approach, taking a small scroll from his belt. I recognized Hórean' s with some surprise – I had expected the message to be verbal.

Before I could say something the strange elf greeted me with a slight bow.

"My lord Glorfindel. Please excuse my insolence of letting you run out to meet me here. I prefer not to enter a camp this large where I know no one and have no proof of my trustworthiness. I am Calathaura. Hórean and his hunters met me two days ago, near the villages to the west. He asked me to bring you this"

I took the sealed scroll he handed me, pleased with this blunt greeting. I needed not bother with royal trappings here. With so many nobles in this army it was always a relief to deal with warriors, hunters or messengers. I watched the stranger closely, noting the still visible scratches on his face and hands. The mare had seen battle recently as well "Was there trouble on the road that he sent a sealed missive?"

Calathaura noticed my gaze and smiled slightly "There was not when we met, no. I tracked and killed a group of orcs some time ago. What you see on us are just the remaining traces – I am not a professional healer and there was little time to nurse wounds. Hórean said…" he seemed to recall the words for a moment "…to tell you ' that there are bees in the attic' "

Bees in the attic. Our old joke. To hear Quenya again, and spoken by this stranger with a simplicity that told me at least Calathaura regarded the banned tongue still his own, was painful. But Hórean's meaning was plain: you will be travelling through dangerous country. Buzzing with danger, in fact.

"Are you familiar with this part of the land?" I asked abruptly after a moment "I am not, and neither are most of my people here. Any guide would be welcome"

The stranger seemed taken aback "I am not a scout, my lord, neither a guide. What I know of this country is not much. I crossed the lands here once, and in haste. Even from here I see you lead a huge group of chaotic civilians – I know no suitable places for such a camp, if that is what you mean"

Blunt indeed. "Let us not discuss this out here. Will you enter our camp if I asked you to?" I made a small gesture to the tents "As you can smell, there will be dinner soon. Eat with us, and then tell us what news you have of your own roads"

Calathaura looked away for a moment, back to the far forest "There is not much news of that road" he said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. He smiled abruptly, a true smile, though brief "But Faire here asked me to deal for a hot mash, so if that is included in your bargain, I will accept"

I laughed "I am sure that and a dry stable is in it. Come then"

Calathaura insisted on seeing to the mare himself, so I left him at the stable tents. A thin layer of clouds had come up and now, as night deepened, a sudden rain fell. Dinner was made ready, and I dashed across the space between my tent and the stables in the downpour. What use sending an aide? I might as well fetch my guest myself. I had the feeling Calathaura would remain in the stables if not explicitly called out.

When I slipped into the warm stable tent I guessed I had been right. The flaps in the tent's roof were open to let the air move, but two small coal braziers gave light and some warmth. The smell of hay and horses was strong. Faire was in the first box, which was more of a compartment divided off by lines strung and hung with blankets. With the elf-horses we could risk makeshift organizations and even braziers, while the tents to stable the mortal horses took time to secure and needed solid construction. They also remained a rather draughty business since any sort of fire was out of the question there.

Calathaura had taken his own armour off and piled his and his horse's things in the nearest corner. The runner had obviously shown him where to find the bath tents and provided him with a loose shirt and trousers until his own things were dried. The scraggly tail was gone and his still damp and curling hair fell unbound over his shoulders. He was speaking softly to the mare, but did not break off when I tapped on the flap and entered.

"…and I should imagine you will roll in the deepest mire tomorrow" he obviously finished his sentence. He smiled at me to indicate he had seen me and would come in a moment before moving around Faire and tugging the next of her hooves up to check for stones.

"There is a wonderful place just in front of the gates. It should be squelching by dawn" he added after a moment, letting go of her and straightening up. He had spoken in Quenya, and even as I realized Calathaura was not only mumbling to the mare but having a conversation I knew that I had seen him before, though briefly. Long ago, before the first shadow of Morgoth had fallen on Valinor. And again, while crossing the Helcaraxe, drenched and in the middle of chaos where great parts of ice had simply turned over under our feet.

Quenya… – then the sindarized form of 'Calathaura' had to be – "Gildor"

The stranger looked at me startled, then shrugged and smiled slightly "If you wish" he said in Sindarin. I shook my head, the ceremony and all the attached trouble coming back to my mind.

"Your name is your own. I just remembered…I just remembered seeing you in Valinor" I finished firmly "In the city, and…later on the Ice, when we left…"

"Ah, yes" Gildor looked at me searchingly, his eyes falling on the small emblem on my cloak "The House of the Golden Flower. You will have been there then as well. At the circle"

"No" I said "Not then. I am younger than you. My father was, though"

"The father who did not accompany his son into exile as well" Gildor said recklessly "Funny how many people have got into conflict with their families over leaving…Severe conflicts at that, too. Even in the highest royal houses. And so the wayward sons meet again" Gildor smiled wryly. He had nothing to lose, obviously. Those words could have got him into severe trouble at any place.

I smiled ruefully "In a way. But I intend to keep the circumstances different. Will you still eat with me?"

"Maybe the question should be the other way round" Gildor remarked as we hastened through the rain towards my tent. This I regarded as the most worthy attachment that came with being army commander – I got a large tent, and all to myself. Though I preferred to eat with the fighters in the larger tent, sometimes the opportunity to have my food brought here came in handy.

"Why?" I held the tent flap open for Gildor to slip inside "Do you fear my nobles will object to your presence?"

Gildor glanced at me "Something in your formulation tells me that is exactly the point. You do not get along all smooth with some of them, I assume" he said carefully, sitting down on a folding chair gingerly. After a year of rough camping it seemed he would have preferred to sit on the floor at the moment "And won' t they? It would not be the wisest thing to start a squabble over proper behaviour right now and here"

"I do not lead this company for wisdom but for strategic reasons. There were lots of older people who could have been put in command" I said. If he was playing as aptly as some of my nobles did, I could get myself into serious trouble, too, talking like this. What did I know of him other than well, that we both had left Valinor choosing new troubles over old ones. But in this I also decided to trust in some design of Ulmo, that someone with absolutely no idea what was going on might find us.

"You are head of your house now" Gildor pointed out "Who in exile could point a finger and stand any better than you?"

"Those who were lucky enough to get a complete family across the Ice and consider themselves moral imperatives?" I suggested, walking over to the table I had hastily emptied of maps and decked for dinner.

"They missed out on Feanor's piece, I guess – still trying to re-build Valinorean land and law"

Gildor looked at me "You are in for enemies"

I laughed "For my talk, yes. Hardly anyone risk their integrity passing words against the powerful families, do they? Seldom in private, never openly. Even among friends mutterings are restricted to dark corners and night-watches, and here I am talking to a complete stranger… I' m lucky though. My missions were all fruitful up to now, so success counts for me"

"I suppose so" Gildor replied carefully.

"The traditional ones can be a pain in the ass" I said undeterred "But I will prefer a guide with knowledge of the orcs and the land to any white-vested noble who never stole a kiss behind a tree and has no idea how to hold a blade the right way up"

Gildor stared at the glasses while I poured mead from a jug. He very well understood I was referring to Silmarusse.

"I would exchange any day of the last year for embarrassing trials without hesitation. It had all been meaningless while we had had each other. It wasn't the trial that stung, the idiocy about laws and customs, it was the fact that all Silmarusse and I had gained then has been wiped off a year ago for nothing"

I held my breath a moment. I had assumed this "She is…dead"

He nodded "An orc-ambush"

To say I am sorry was only cold comfort. I had the feeling he would not appreciate that.

"Why do you bother with asking me to accompany you through this country? You have the right to command" Gildor leaned back "I told you before I have little idea what to expect of this land. I am hardly better a better choice than any of your own scouts. And if those you already call a pain in the ass find me out they probably will try to turn that against you"

"And no matter that is absolutely silly and useless" I finished. He moved fast. Taking my implications and drawing exact conclusions. It was like arguing with my friend Ecthelion, not like talking to a stranger I had known for less than an hour "I don't give a damn, you know? I have to get all these people safely through this country, how, I don't care. You're experienced both in leading small groups and in coordinating them. Almost none of my officers here can claim that. And you can't tell me it wasn't all hot air back in Valinor"

Gildor waited curiously how I would continue. I shrugged inwardly. Too late to retreat to small-talk now "As I said I was too young to speak on the council then. I would have said so otherwise"

"Why did it concern you?" Gildor asked "If you were so young, the affair can' t have been more than a rumour and a story of your father' s business to you"

"It wasn't, at first. But it kept popping up in every talk and argument somehow until you pushed to the peak for the ceremony. I don't know what exactly went on, but it was scandal number one. At a time when they should have worried about the rift between the houses more than about a couple's love affair. More than about their mouldy laws" I added lowly, then gestured to the table "We should eat before that's mouldy, too"

Gildor smiled slightly and applied himself to the food. It was a better version of army fare, but after his own lean year and the last winter it must have seemed the best food in the world. I hoped it was enough to weigh up the topic of the ceremony. For a good while we ate in silence. He finished the last crumbs of a honey cake slowly and then glanced at me.

"There was something about the way you speak of the ceremony and the laws that makes me think you are not happy with them either"

I was not. Just why I could hardly admit here "Many families and houses were split by the rebellion and the exile, but the far greater part separated in sorrow, not in anger" I cut a piece of cheese to bits and speared one with my dagger absently, having ignored the fork successfully all through dinner. It wasn't false modesty when I claimed to feel out of place with the royal trappings and more comfortable among the warriors. But I had learned my manners, no doubt. I knew how to play the courtly game. Still, I was here mainly because I had a force of warriors, not a band of courtiers. Because we had survived the Ice, and, so far, the exile. Why I was not happy with the laws was a very different matter. And out of the question, too. The one I had loved had not left Valinor. But I had said too much too bluntly. I had to see if I could make a blunt withdrawal "I would rather not speak of it now"

Gildor nodded, accepting "But you at least still wear your badges"

An answer I could take or leave. For some reason, I took it "Maybe I just found a better way to resolve my conflicts than you. Less…public"

Gildor grinned crookedly "I daresay" He hesitated "You have an interest in the…let's call it ceremony. I don't care for broaching that topic but it's no taboo either"

I stared at him for a moment. He read me well. Too well, maybe. What a strange lot we were, the Eldar, I thought wryly. One moment rioting to rebel against the gods, the next moment pounding on old books shouting for law and decency.

"What happens at the ceremony?" I asked abruptly "I know it is a private question, I do not expect you to answer…"

Gildor shook his head "It's fine. But did Lor- did your father say nothing?"

I snorted softly "He considered us very much above the concerns of freakish lowborn and their associates"

"I take it you're not at all happy with your father"

He read me _very_ well. My father was at the core of this "I am not. But that was his…let's call it attitude, for a long while. So…"

"So he did not want to risk putting funny ideas in his son's head" Gildor frowned "So what happened…" he took a moment to order his thoughts "It's better to have it by your own choice, to make your own decisions. And to make them standing…So what finally happens depends on your decisions, too. The traditional way is to recount the charges, accept or deny them, and have the judgement spoken. In our case _we_ pushed for the ceremony. It is much less pleasant if you are hauled before the court instead of making them rush to you, I suppose. So – we were charged with living and lying together unrighteously and told to stop dishonouring our families. We said we would neither stop nor did we intend to marry. Before they could get a hold on that and tell us to leave the city, we both disclaimed our titles and our right to lands" Gildor shrugged "That's about it. You get outlawed without being called so"

"And your families…"

"I have not spoken to mine since then. Silmarusse did not either, I think. Only her sister cared little – she did not bother chucking Silmarusse out and left half of her house for us even after the official disclaiming"

"Then why…why did you leave for Middle Earth? If you had a place - Elmíre's was a grand house, if I remember rightly"

"It was. But all of Valinor would not have been large enough that neither of us ran into members of our…lets say family now and then. We were not only a disgrace to their name and honour, we were reasons for emotional pain as well. To take the opportunity and go was the best way. And some were thinking it snide to start picking on Elmíre for housing us, and we wanted more than to live off charity, a garden, and hard work. Have you known Silmarusse?"

I smiled slightly "Yes. Yes, I imagine she was eager to leave"

"She was" Gildor stared at the table for a moment "We had settled our business with the elves then, and without losing face for ourselves, we decided. But…you see, you can ignore elven law to some degree. You cannot escape Valinorean law, not within the western lands…We…thought Mandos would ignore us once we were out of direct line of sight…That was the real trouble about it all. Mandos. It took a while until we realized what Varda had meant when she said no marriage can be an unbinding. We went anyway. I wonder if our ploy worked – she should be free to make a new life if…when she returns"

I looked at him, and he did not look away now. The courtly raised part of me was shocked, considerably, that he spoke like this. As if we were friends, not fellow warriors. As if there was no distance of rank between us. The remaining – and far greater part – was deeply moved. Both by the information and his honesty.

"Tell me about your chase" I said quietly "Tell me what you think of these lands. Hórean gave us a quite detailed description of where they found Orcs traces, camps and trails. They are building something up here, spreading. And I have no choice but to pass through here, keep to the mountains. With all the gear and all the people, it would be madness to travel through the open"

He was glad for the change of topic "If you follow the mountains' feet you will come to the higher mountains eventually. Then you must turn either north or south if you do not wish to cross them"

"Yes" I scraped small chips of wood off the table, then stopped abruptly, realizing I was chipping someone's handiwork. With a sigh, I put my dagger on the table and instead clasped my glass. We did not intend to cross or pass those mountains. We intended to disappear into them.

"This 'army' …these elves you lead, it is not a purely military thing" Gildor stated the obvious "You have woodworkers, gardeners, healers, even children. Why do you risk travelling with all of them through this land at all? Are you looking for a place to settle? And why did you not send scouts first before bringing the whole thing?"

"Simply because there was no time. We had to start off, start quick, and try to go unseen"

Gildor smirked slightly, and I had to grin "That were my orders. You see I am not that likely to fulfil them completely. It was the best I could do that no elves saw us, nor orcs" I hesitated. My friend had not specified much, left everything to me. We knew the way, knew the need for secrecy and by now, speed. I knew I should and indeed had to trust into Ulmo's guidance. But how far could I trust Gildor? It was clear he had no firm direction, was undecided where to go, when, how far – if I spoke now what I wanted, it was responsibility. Would he go into the city? To stay? As he must, then? Right now Gildor perched on the edge of the camp chair, looking as if he wanted to leap up and pace the room. I shrugged inwardly once more. I did not lead this army for wisdom but for the excellent warriors of the Golden Flower. It had been the logical thing to do, moving in smaller groups towards the mountains, accompanying civilians and craftsmen with as much fighters as we could spare for each group. That took time, but maybe was not looking as if we were all fleeing for one point in the mountains. As the king had pointed out, getting all inside without giving away the location was the hardest part.

The king. I pulled the flat pendant out of my tunic and slipped the chain over my head. The silver disc glittered in the firelight, the engraved arms standing out black. I shoved the pendant across the table. Gildor picked it up slowly, frowning.

"You know the sign?"

Gildor nodded slowly "Turgon's House?"

"Turgon' s own arms"

There was a long silence.

"How did you come here? How is it that Hórean sent you?"

Gildor gave me a puzzled look "I bypassed a few human settlements, and we met"

"Was there water?"

"There was…Faire and I had stopped by a brook some while earlier. Our water-flasks were empty and that was the only brook we had found in a while. What do you mean?"

I stared at the table for a while "This is a strange chance. When we started, it was with the word of Ulmo himself that we would march under his own protection. That you and Hórean met, that he sent you when it was self-understood that…this was not a simple travel, and that you even found us-. I do not know what to do"

"Maybe tell me what is afoot without speaking in riddles?" Gildor suggested dryly.

"We must come east to the mountains" I said finally "And not go past them north or south. We will go inside. All Vinyamar is emptied…If you want to come with us, you have until then to decide. No one can leave the city once he has seen its location"

Gildor turned the pendant over thoughtfully "Isn' t it a high price, turning your back on all this, for one city?" he said finally, giving the emblem back to me "You have come here to find freedom. Now you lock yourself up in a hidden refuge"

_Abandoning the rest of your people. _That was what we did, didn't we? I could not say if he simply left that unsaid and it were my own doubts supplying the words.

"You have seen how we fare for yourself" I returned "I do not love the idea with all my heart. But it seems a much better chance to me than struggling for survival in orc-infested forests. We have lost so many. The jewels are a small price to pay if we can _survive_. And if we are lucky, we can outlast the shadow that way"

"You cannot outlast the shadow" Gildor said darkly "Either we fight and defeat it, or we die. Or we are sensible and learn to live here as the dark elves have learned. They need not hide"

"They fight for their own lives, Gildor. I do not wish to exchange places with any of them. They live and die by the sword like mortals"

"Is it so bad, I wonder" Gildor murmured "At least they live, and for a purpose. They fight the shadow. They kill orcs"

"I…have no answer to that" I said truthfully.

"Never mind" Gildor rubbed his eyes "I will think about it. But I am scout, but not a pathfinder. If you wish, I will ride with the outer guards when you move. For anything else, I' m afraid, I will need the time to think until we reach the mountains"

I nodded slowly "Maybe you should keep in mind that we go with the knowledge and guidance of the Lord of the Waters himself"

Gildor gave a small laugh "I do see that. But you know my relation to the Valar is a little…ambiguous"

I glanced at him, but he gave me no further clue. After a while I decided to change the topic once more "Your horse-"

"She's not mine" Gildor interrupted.

I raised one eyebrow.

Gildor sighed "She is Silmarusse's. She stayed with me after her death. There was no official choosing"

"It does not seem to matter" I said "I was just going to observe that she and you seem to be a pretty good team. If you would take charge of some of the younger outriders…"

Gildor raised frowned slightly "I do not think I would want that. You see what trouble that would make?"

I shrugged "Well, I am commander, am I not?"

"You are not making your position lighter, are you?" Gildor asked, amused. I laughed softly "My _fighters_ are loyal for good reasons. If there is one mistake I am not going to make it is to repeat my father's emphasis on noble blood. The finest warriors I could send to battle are not royal, are not even born into the House. If we weren't' t going where we are, Gildor, I would not hesitate to take dark elven fighters as well. They are loyal to each other, and to their cause. That makes the best warriors, not bloodline and education. They have lived in this land for ages while we lazed about in the West" I shook my head in frustration "Those who object have missed out on the reality of Middle Earth, I suppose. They still talk about Silmarils, but we might as well face it – we should fight to hold the_ lands_ we have gained here and be glad if we even manage that. I cannot say I would get along nicely with the Avari, but we cut our own hand if we start trying to drive them from their own lands…I suppose you can see my fluffy ideas will not work with many others of power?"

Gildor took a sip of mead "I am hardly in any position to judge politics in general and your plans in specific, don't you think? I have spent the last year tracking and slaughtering and fighting my own demons. I have no wish to add political ghosts"

"No, I can see that" I smiled slightly. I refilled our glasses quietly "So what think you?"

"That perhaps you should put more trust in Ulmo's word?"

I smiled wryly "I was speaking of the lands, you see?"

"The way you head there are rolling plains, but they are neither empty nor flat. They are interspersed with rocky areas, deeper valleys, and woodland. You will have to store water, because brooks or even lakes you can only find in the hollows. There are no greater waters in the plain…I think. If not your guide provides for it" I could not say if Gildor was mocking me or speaking in good faith, but he continued without break "If not, you will run into trouble. No matter when, where and how fast you cross. His power is with water, not with orcs. Faire and I have been alone, and quick to disappear, and still we were tracked and followed. This company cannot hope for very much speed. You shout _meat_ to any starved orc. And _sport _to any other"

I nodded "We can keep a tight ring of guards around the whole group, and another of fighters, both on foot and on horseback. While we are in a place. Should we be forced to run for cover, we will get into trouble"

"Scouts and outriders?"

"Twenty extremely good ones, another twenty we had to scrape together"

Gildor frowned "That is not much. Or rather, not enough for these lands"

"I know" I watched him "We had double as much before I had to try and unite at least three houses and their subdivisions, plus a wriggling sack full of individualistic craftsmen and aristocratic healers. We had a number of Avari on for pay, but they keep to the forested lands. Some _would_ have come, but our most prissy ones considered themselves too noble to be guarded by barbarians"

Gildor whistled softly through his teeth "Why do I think especially you have a problem with them?"

"Because Turgon assigned all the hopeless cases to me?" I leant back in my chair and stretched, balancing the folding chair precariously on edge.

"Couldn't' t you have offered your dark elf-guards more pay to stay on through the flats and ignore the prissies?"

I shook my head "You don't know them that well, do you?"

Gildor shrugged "No. Macar's soldiers are scouts and farscouts and we stayed to ourselves except for regular reports back to the realm. I won't be any help for policies"

"Macar?"

"A scout of Finrod"

I gave Gildor a puzzled glance "Finrod?"

"Silmarusse attached us to his following on the Ice" he said with some hesitation "We stayed on, somehow, when we came here. Until…she was killed"

"Then why are you _here_?" I asked "And not with the King?"

Gildor shrugged "My path is my own"

"Certainly" I watched him thoughtfully "But you could go back to his lands"

"I could. And you could finish what you wanted to say of the Avari"

I hesitated. Strange chance indeed. Had I made a mistake revealing the truth to him? Well, it was too late now. If anything, he would have to leave before we reached the Echoriath.

"Their main concern is for their lands" I said finally "They want to keep their freedom of wandering and hunting, and do not care for the Feanorians' revenge or our dividing the rest up for kingdoms. They will take pay in things they do not have for themselves, but it is useless to try and bribe them with more pay than they consider they need"

"Yet they ally with us"

"When it saves their lands. They will share them with us even. But they do not make good mercenaries"

Gildor laughed wryly "You think I will make a better one?"

"Ah" I said "That depends on what you want" Seeing Gildor's eyes narrow I added "What you want for your life, I think. Will you wander the wild, do you want to go back and fight in the sieges, or will you go into the city and 'turn your back' on all of this, as you said?"

For a moment Gildor seemed to consider not answering, but then said "I do not know what I want. As I said, I will accompany your host and use the time to think"

"What does your heart say?" I asked softly after a while.

I had not meant to either insult or challenge him, but realized he was suddenly holding on to some pleasantly controlled mien.

"My heart bids me" he said calmly after a while "to hunt out every single orc and kill as messily as any servant of the shadow could ever contrive, and still I would hate them"

He had switched to Quenya. It was more of an oath than an answer. I held his gaze, cool and green-blue, for a moment, but found no answer.

"I go with you" he said abruptly "If we meet orcs, I can at least count the journey a success"

Chapter notes:

Quenya: About fifty years after the Mereth Aderthad, the Feast of Reuniting, Thingol banned Quenya as being the language of the kinslayers from his realm and it was abandoned in daily use. The exiled Noldor took Sindarin as their language.

"' Now thou shalt go at last to Gondolin, Turgon; and I (Ulmo) will maintain my power in the vale of Sirion, and in all the waters therein, so that none shall mark thy going, nor shall any find there the hidden entrance against thy will…' Then…Turgon sent forth all his people…and they passed away, company by company, secretly, under the shadow of Ered Wethrin, and they came unseen to Gondolin, and none knew whither they had gone" (_The Silmarillion, _Of the Noldor in Beleriand)

Hórean: Q, v. hórea, impulsive; scout-captain

Elmire: Q, star-jewel; Silmarusse's sister

Macar: Q, sword-fighter; leader of Finrod's scouts


	6. Chapter 6 Bearclaw

**Bearclaw**

Gildor's POV

Beleriand, FA 126

The small host remained camped in the place for a day more, which I spent mostly sleeping in Faire's stall. I had refused to move into a tent, not wanting to put up with more or less enforced company all the time. Also, the stable master, one of the grumpy, short-spoken sort, was pleased with that – I could take over looking after the horses in that tent whenever we paused long enough that it would be set up. That left more time on his hands for the mortal horses, which caused much more work than the quite independent – _and sensible -_ elf-horses. But the rest of the day grew long. The few hunters that had been sent out were gone since dawn. I was uncomfortably at loose ends until at dusk the quiet and swift packing up of the camp began. The hunters had returned with the meat cut up already, ready for roasting the next halt. The train started moving with less noise and more speed than I would have credited the motley group with. Simultaneously, I started worrying where I should set my next course. The mountains were visible as a hazy, bluish line at the horizon. I rode with the group of younger and less experienced scouts I had been given charge of by Glorfindel, and my encounters with unfriendly eyes or minds were relatively scarce. There had been a sharp confrontation between Glorfindel and one of his sub-commanders over this, but that had happened behind closed tent-flaps, and the captain said nothing of it to me. So far, neither the scouts nor their main leader had objected to Glorfindel's decision or my presence. They were not only forcibly civil as I had expected, but quite amiably. With that worry off my mind, there still remained the matter that somehow Glorfindel had found out I had been in charge of one of the flanks with Macar's fighters, before Silmarusse's death. He had decided I might as well take Morcollo's place, who was only a temporary scout-leader since Rastatinwi, the original leader, had been killed in an ambush just after the army had set out and the two groups been put together under Leucalinde. I would have been perfectly content to ride under someone's command, but Glorfindel insisted it was better to have four smaller units of horsed scouts under four experienced leaders, than two smaller units and one group so large Leucalinde would have to split them up and give charge to one of the scouts anyway should they be forced to ride as additional guards.

The going was slow still, the core of the group being made up of at least ten heavy wagons holding most of the craftsmen's large gear, and a handful of smaller wagons carrying some supplies and stuff for the tents. I wondered darkly what we were going to do when this reached the mountains. There would be passes to cross, gravel-fields, and the gods knew what other obstacles to reach their hiding.

One group of the scouts was always a day ahead, checking for orc dens and probable ambush sites, while another rode a few miles ahead and the remaining two groups rode with the main body. For the time being though, the weather remained dry and mild, and we camped only light and overnight, leaving the tents packed. Some days out from the point where I had met them, my group was riding guard-duty with the host when one of the outriders came galloping back to the train, shouting something. We were crossing lightly wooded and hard to overlook, slightly rolling lands, and all were wary. The strewn rocks and small valleys suddenly appearing in the ground proved obstacles for the wagons as well as offering wonderful hiding places for orcs. When he slowed in front of Leucalinde I heard the call going through the ranks "Rhevain, rhevain"

Involuntarily, I reached for my sword, then angrily pulled my hand back. A sword would do me hardly any good if I had understood correctly. But the archers and spear-bearers did not look alarmed, so I turned to the young scout riding slightly behind me.

"Wolves? At this time of day? Out in the open?"

The scout shook his head "No, my lord. Though there is sometimes little difference. They are very similar, sometimes, so we call them the Wild Ones"

I frowned "Nandaro, first of all once more stop lording me, and secondly, if that's supposed to enlighten me, it doesn't. What _are_ Wild Ones?"

"Wild Elves, my lo-, sir" Nandaro said hastily "They are generally friendly and will give news, but we also had less nice encounters"

When he saw me still looking blank he launched into a brief explanation, keeping an eye on Leucalinde and the orders passed on. The train slowed, and finally came to a halt. The rising noise level and milling was quickly quelled by a few quiet orders from the guards.

"The rhevain are…well, I suppose you can say outlaws" Nandaro said, leaning forward onto his horses withers "They are a motley crowd, elves of all kindreds that happened to get into conflict with their own people severely enough to leave them. They have their own language, their own customs. I think, there are several clans that have formed in the last years, and they call themselves Wild Elves because they explicitly reject all their former traditions. Some of them are quite – well, bitter, I think. You will not get a good word out of them for your own people. Some even outrightly refuse to speak either Quenya or Sindarin or whatever their original language was, and will only use the mortals' tongues with you"

Now that definitely sounded interesting.

"I've never heard of them"

Nandaro shrugged "Most of us hadn't, until we ran into a group of them and Lord Glorfindel started bargaining with them. They would not say where we could find rich game, but they agreed to hunt for us instead. I don't know what they got in exchange, but we were camped in a dark and quite unfriendly forest for several days, always watched by them. They kept their bargain much better than any would have thought, though, and only about the time you met up with us the last supplies they traded with us were used up. But that was when all the trouble started, with some of the high royals speaking out against Glorfindel and all-"

"Why then?"

"They wanted to trade for weapons, steel pieces, coins"

I shrugged "Where's the problem? The Avari mostly trade for steel"

Nandaro sighed "Because some think it unwise to give them more weapons than they already have. They have the odd fear the rhevain might want to try and fight their way back to where they came from-"

Nandaro broke off when a small group of riders appeared suddenly among the trees and came towards the head of the army. Two of our scouts rode with them, and most of the guards stayed relaxed and calm. Some glanced at the arrivals darkly, though, and muttered among themselves. Glorfindel did not ride forward to intercept the group, and no guards were called to the front either. I took my leisure to watch them. So these were the Wild Elves. No wonder those who objected to lower born nobles in the higher ranks were not happy trading with or, even more, relying, on these guys. One had to remind himself that these were elves. On a dark night, the best scout could have mistaken them for orcs, probably. They rode shaggy-looking mortal horses, some without any gear in elf-fashion, others with saddle or reins or even both. I smiled grimly to myself.

The one who seemed to be leader of the small group was clad in a dark, ragged bearskin, with the head of the beast serving as hood and obscuring most of his face. The fur was held together by a thick leather thong, serving as a mixture of cloak and cape. Underneath garments of assorted furs, ranging from squirrel to wolf, could be seen, but the elf's arms and part of his legs were bare despite the chill winds that interrupted the mild day. He had an axe across his back and a small shield slung across his horse's saddle. That one seemed to go in for close combat rather than stealth, I thought dryly.

The others looked only little less ragged, and obviously anything worked for clothes that the wearer decided would do. Some had tunics or other linen garments, but all relied on furs as main clothing. They also carried an arsenal of weapons that would make any ranger blanch - bows, swords, daggers, as well as the odd axe and broadsword. It would be quite a sight if this group should decide to fight some orcs.

Glorfindel at least seemed to know the leader, who brought his horse alongside Asfaloth to speak with the captain. I caught only half of what was said as the entire conversation went on in a hasty version of what was obviously the Wild Elves' own language. The guards that had ridden with the small group added a few words in what seemed approval. Glorfindel called the Leaders together and word was passed that they would move on towards a wide valley and camp there briefly, while the Wild Elves would each lead some scouts forward. They had killed orcs here two days ago and were sure more hid in the woodlands.

I was aware that decision caused more muttering, but though they did not look very much pleased the leaders also favoured the further delay if the alternative was ambush in the unfamiliar country. As the host moved towards the valley Glorfindel dropped back to me.

"The four others will take two scouts each and have a look at the site. One group will double back on the land we've already crossed. Would you be willing to go forward with Bearclaw alone?"

"Bearclaw?" I said dubiously "And why me? That will leave these scouts under Morcollo's command again" _And why are you _asking_ and not simply telling me to go?_

"I know" Glorfindel was quite aware of my thought "I ask, because no one else would go with him. I would, but I dare not leave this sack of fleas under Leucalinde's and Morcollo's command. Bearclaw is…well, I suppose the best Orc tracker we could find in the whole of Middle Earth yet. You have some experience fighting them on your own. If you two went forward -"

"Just tell me why you are beating about the bush so much. You weren't as concerned about my preference when assigning the scouts to me"

Glorfindel smiled wryly "I'm sorry, but in this case I will shamelessly use your ignorance of Bearclaw and send you with him if you are willing. If you find out for yourself why the others I could send balk, fine, you can decide then if you would ride with him a second time"

"If we are going to that city as you say, I doubt there will be a second time in the near future" I growled softly "You realize you are not making it better, yes?"

"Yes" Glorfindel grinned and shouted "Hey Bearclaw, my scout leader here will go with you, right?"

I saw quite some heads turn towards them, and turn hastily back so as not to be caught staring. The wild elf leader dropped back, and for a moment I was not sure if I did not rue this new assignment. Bearclaw surveyed me from the shadows of his bear-hood for a moment and gave a brisk nod.

"You had better go as soon as we are safely ensconced. You can send the others on their way as soon as they're ready. The sooner we have an idea what is coming, the better" Glorfindel said softly in Sindarin. I assumed it was for my benefit as I had no idea of the Wild Elves' tongue. I wondered how we were supposed to talk to each other. Bearclaw nodded. He raised his fingers to his lips and gave an odd whistle. The elves of his group turned, and they exchanged a few silent gestures. Without a word, the groups turned their horses and vanished into the forest in different directions, the scouts of Glorfindel's army following them. He turned to Glorfindel and me with satisfaction.

"Well, that _was _soon" Glorfindel said dryly.

Bearclaw shrugged and grinned "We are effective for our pay" he replied in heavily accented Sindarin. He cast an appreciative glance at Faire "Have your gear with you already?"

"Er- yes" I only now realized that most other guards and scouts did not ride with their packs and bedrolls on their horses. I felt better keeping my things packed neatly and in sight, and neither Faire nor Glorfindel had pointed out I should put them in the wagons as the others.

I knew it would come in handy Faire remarked smugly.

Don't tell me off tomorrow for having you carry the stuff when we could have it carried for a change I warned half-heartedly, trying to keep my mind on two exchanges at once.

"Right" the wild elf pushed his hood back, revealing a wild mane of brown hair and a lean face. Both cheeks were marked by scars, which had roughly the size of a curved claw "You know my name. You are…?"

"…Calathaura" I said, ignoring Glorfindel's speculative glance and hoping he would go along with this.

Bearclaw watched me warily "Calathaura and what? I have had enough blunders with mixing up your titles"

"Just Calathaura. No titles or anything"

Bearclaw frowned but shrugged once more "Alright then" He shifted into a comfortable position on his shaggy beast "Let's go"

Bearclaw proved as good a scout as I had guessed, and much better company than I had feared. We rode warily, and in silence at first. As seemed sensible, I decided to leave most of the immediate scouting to the wild elf and kept my mind on scanning the land and remembering small details that might prove useful soon. We crossed a number of rivulets and brooks, wide meadows and densely wooded patches. Bearclaw gave me a brief description of the general lay of the land and held on a course which he thought favourable to travel with a large host.

We had started out at early afternoon, and when dusk approached we came to a freshly green birch-wood, where the floor was covered with thick long grass and a spicy scent of damp earth and near moor hung in the air. Bearclaw halted his horse and raised his head slightly as if catching a scent. Faire, some paces ahead of him, halted as well and I turned, thinking I had missed something alarming.

"What is it?" I asked when Bearclaw dismounted and pulled the reins over his horse's head.

"We rest for a while" the wild elf announced "We might find orcs sooner than we expect, and I do not want to run into them weary. My group had been riding since last night before we met you"

I dismounted as well and we took the gear off the horses. Faire turned her attention to the grass, and Bearclaw also let his horse wander loose.

"What tells you this is safe?" I asked when the wild elf flattened a space in the grass, formed a circle with small stones and arranged wood for a small fire. Fire seemed the least sensible thing now.

"Oh" Bearclaw looked up and got to his feet "You haven't seen. Come"

"What?"

"I'll show you why it is safe" Bearclaw elaborated "My people leave signs on the sites we pass, and these here told me that no orc comes near _this_ wood"

Bearclaw led me back towards the edge of the wood and aside from the slight trail the horses' hooves had made. He traced the ordinary-looking markings on a birch-trunk, and only when he placed his hands in an odd position over the black markings on the white bark I saw that there was indeed a sign visible, made up half of Bearclaw's hands and half of the marks on the bark.

"This simply means that all of my people who have passed here before have camped here, some even for a few days, without seeing, hearing or scenting orcs, and that no traces of them were found a quarter of a day's walk on foot in each direction"

"Simply?" I echoed, looking at the tree after Bearclaw had lowered his hands again "I would never see that, not even stark drunk"

Bearclaw laughed "One can see a lot stark drunk. But no – that is the purpose of our signs. Neither orcs, nor humans or other elves can read them. Well, some can, but we try to keep them secret"

"It must take years to learn how to read and produce them"

Bearclaw shrugged "That depends. But there is a key, and when you have that, it is easy" He went on back towards their campsite "We have simpler signs as well – look up there. Do you see something?"

I squinted into the branches, dark shapes in the gathering night.

"Look for feathers" Bearclaw said, pointing.

There _was _a small feather fastened to a branch, that for all the world could have just snagged there.

"That was put there for a purpose, trust me" Bearclaw answered at my doubtful look "Because it goes with those sticks directly opposite"

"Gods" I shook my head "You could have charted the whole land without anyone else knowing"

Bearclaw glanced at me "We _have _charted quite some regions without you knowing. We were here before you returned"

"Which, in effect, means 'if you were on our side some less of our people might die spying out places unknown to them'"

"You people often pass through our lands without knowing and noticing" the wild elf said as we returned to our small fire.

"And you neither help nor hinder them"

"We are seldom asked to help" Bearclaw smirked slightly "Most of us have little desire to help the people they left, or were made to leave. Most would not accept our help if we offered, anyway"

"There are exceptions, aren't there? Glorfindel deals with you"

Bearclaw speared the meat we had taken with us before leaving the host on green branches and stuck them over the fire. He shrugged "We get paid. We trade fair"

"And what is your gain in this risk? If the lands are as full of orcs as you said?"

Bearclaw snorted, spreading his bare arms and casting a demonstrative glance at himself "Steel" he said simply "We have no forges, and few of us could actually work metal. We used to be all kinds of…professions, but you will realize that we neither build nor farm. We hunt and gather, but for – say milk, grain, linen, steel weapons we must trade, or offer service for coin to be able to buy from humans - or we steal. When the winters are hard, we often enough do"

I stared at the slowly browning meat. So that was what Nandaro meant with no difference between them and wolves.

"Why did Glorfindel – why would no one else go with you this time?" I asked bluntly.

"Ah" Bearclaw smiled crookedly "Let us complete our survey and I will tell you, but I won't risk having to tell Glorfindel you turned tail before we came ten miles"

I smirked "If you think so"

Bearclaw shrugged, but remained silent.

We had taken a loaf of bread each as well. Faire wandered over when I unwrapped it and looked at me expectantly, an amused glint in her eyes. I broke off a handful and gave it to her "Right. Tomorrow, you eat grass"

She gave me a shove that almost flattened me, and I pinched her nose in revenge.

I wonder what happened to his face

Hm

"You are talking to her" the wild elf observed. Faire looked up and stared back at him.

"She is talking to _me_" I said, hiding my surprise that Bearclaw had noticed the tiny exchange "She wonders what happened to your face"

Bearclaw frowned "What is it to her?"

I shrugged "She's as curious as me"

"Curious" Bearclaw snorted "Well, that's a new way to put it. I think that's worth an answer, right?"

I raised an eyebrow, waiting. Bearclaw indicated the scars "This one was…stupidity, this one intention. I wasn't much of a woodman when I…left. In a hurry. I met a bear in the mountains, and thought I could show him. Well he showed me" Bearclaw made a slashing motion with his hand "I got broken ribs and this souvenir. Some time later, I found a group of Wild Elves – or they found me - and they took me up. They taught me to survive in the wild. And to make this look respectable" He indicated his other cheek "There are quite a lot of interesting techniques to produce scars and tattoos. After a while I went back to look after the bear" He smiled wryly and tugged at the fur-coat "When I returned, I could claim the name of Bearclaw by right. And I needed not freeze in the night anymore"

"You are their leader now"

"Now" Bearclaw stretched and checked on the sizzling meat "I travelled with the group that found me for a long time. A few others joined us, and we became too many to travel quietly and to survive in the winter. We split up, but there were two to claim leadership over the smaller group – me and an Avarin Elf we only knew as Darkstone. He came from the Mines, escaped from Angband. We fought for the lead, and he lost. He and the others agreed to follow me, and that group has stayed together ever since" Bearclaw smirked "Those scouts of yours, they know my story and balk at trading with _me_. I wonder what they would say to Darkstone. He leads Lamandil and Mithfaun now. They do _not _know"

I whistled softly "He stayed in your group even though you defeated him?"

Bearclaw shrugged once more "It was a fair fight. We have rows still, but we have no grudge against each other. I am glad to have him in my group – he knows the land around Angband like no other. He is silent as night itself in stalking something. When we spy on orcs, we always send him first. He speaks their language, eavesdrops" Bearclaw shook his head slightly "If your people were willing to trust us, trust him and those that escaped like him, you would have an advantage still in your war-"

The sieges. I stared at the flickering flames. Faire stood behind me, listening to Bearclaw quietly 'They are not all - free' she said darkly 'We cannot trust them. And you find out they lie only when it is too late'

'Oh Faire, if I wanted to judge that I would have returned to Macar and his forces weeks ago'

'Yes I know'

"What were you before? I mean…your people?"

"My people are the Wild Elves" Bearclaw plucked the branches out of the fire and handed me a stick with sizzling meat. Faire snorted softly in disgust at the scent of meat, turning her head away demonstratively.

Bearclaw waved his stick around to cool the meat "I was born in Doriath" he said unexpectedly "My parents were Sindar, in Thingol's court. Ouch" He juggled a piece of meat in his hands "What about you, Calathaura-no-titles-or-anything? What is your story?"

"What makes you think there is any?"

"Everybody has one. I guess yours is interesting, Elda"

"I could say the same of you, wild elf"

Bearclaw laughed in satisfaction "Ah, I will thank Glorfindel for sending someone who does not subside at a glare. But I am a good watcher by now. You know your way around a court – I grew up in one, I know the signs"

I looked at him speculatively, then grinned "You talk so much of fair trade – answer my question, and I will tell you mine, sharp-eyes"

Bearclaw chewed his meat "Bastard"

I laughed "Outlaw"

Bearclaw smirked "Why don't you join us? I think you've got the knack right"

_Yes, why don't I? _I shook my head "I don't know what I am going to do. Does your offer stand?"

"Yes" Bearclaw said with a slight smile "It will remain"

"Well?" I asked "I won't let you off the hook"

"I see. Well, the Sindar cast me out because I killed an elf. Right in the king's hall"

I stared at him for a moment "Oh"

Faire said nothing, but I knew she flattened her ears to her skull. Bearclaw returned my gaze flatly. I knew I should be scandalized, and some part of me was, but a far greater part did not care in the least. Why should I care? Not my business. I had asked, and this was my answer. Somehow it failed to really bother me. Somehow, I admitted, anything failed to bother me. Nothing truly seemed to matter at the moment.

I nodded. I could not read Bearclaw's face. Uncomfortably, I turned my attention to the meat and pried a piece off the stick.

"I ran for it" Bearclaw added "I found I was able to leave the Girdle, probably because they thought it was just as well. No blood on their hands, the spiders would take care of me" He shrugged carelessly "The land beyond the Girdle would have handled that well, at least if the Wild Elves had not picked me up blundering through the wild. Well" he said then "Your turn. Who did you loose?"

I looked up sharply, and Bearclaw shrugged once more "I said I'm a good watcher"

"My partner. She was slain by orcs a year ago. I hunted them for the last year"

Bearclaw looked at me for a long moment, then at Faire, obviously seeing or guessing more than I liked "It was because of her you…lost your old place"

Now I shrugged "We both lost our places because we refused to marry"

"And exile came in handy to escape the old ways without turning outlaw like us"

"You are uncanny"

"No. Experience"

I made no answer, and Bearclaw did not ask further. We finished eating in silence and slept for a few hours, Bearclaw accepting Faire's offer to keep watch without hesitation. The next few days were much less easy going. We had left the forest barely a mile behind when we found a black ring of cold ashes and the bony remains of some orc dinner. The fire had been doused, and the soil was still damp. We agreed that it was a day old at the most, and when we picked up the trail found it headed in much the same direction Glorfindel's mixed host would take.

Here, a comparatively smooth space of alternating woodland and meadows was framed by rocky, bare ridges that ran parallel to it and would force the host into a kind of tunnel. To pass around them, Bearclaw said, the host would loose more than two moons and move far into almost the opposite direction they eventually had to take. We did not follow the probable route straight but also scoured a broad stretch to both sides of it, splitting up for a while to do that. I went on foot so that Faire could make her own way through the underbrush. Faire's nose picked up scents an elf would simply miss. I had quickly learned to rely on her in tracking my orcs.

But this time we found no fresh tracks, and the signs we saw were old.

When I met Bearclaw back along the orc trail though, the wild elf looked grim "There is a nicely visible deserted camp-site there, and a fresh trail branching off this one a little ahead. It goes off east slightly, and it is fresh. Judging by what I saw and smelled, there is a group near in that direction"

"How many?"

"Ten at least. Others may be off scouring for food. They did not go in ranks, even I cannot read their crisscrossing tracks" Bearclaw shifted slightly on his horse "Would you rather report back and ask for a few scouts? After all, we were sent to scout, not to clear the area"

I considered that for a moment "No" I decided "We would lose them, riding back and returning here"

Bearclaw caught my unspoken proposal and smiled grimly, fingering his dagger "You have a bow – if we manage to surprise them, you hide and take off as many as possible first, I will take care of the remaining"

I nodded "Faire will take care of the ones that slip both of us. Now, or tonight?"

"Night" the wild elf said without hesitation "If we are not discovered earlier. They will have guards"

"I passed a place where you can leave your horse in cover" I said as I dismounted "We should have a look at that camp now, though"

Bearclaw slipped off his horse as well "It is not that far I should think. We had better go on foot. Can you call her before we attack?" he added, glancing at Faire.

"Yes. Will your horse remain quiet when she leaves?"

"I would not be riding him otherwise" Bearclaw said "We cannot afford to have our horses yelling for each other. He may not be as effective a fighting partner as your lady here, but he is wise enough to stay out of harms way, and will come when he is called"

I nodded, satisfied. I felt excitement rising, a dark anticipation to kill more orcs. No, I would not ride back and ask for fighters. That Bearclaw seemed quite happy with that – perhaps unwise – decision only heightened my desire to get going.

'Faire?'

'I go with Bearclaw first. You call'

No sign if she liked or disliked my plans. I sighed and took her reins off, stuffing them in her saddle bags. It would never do to have them snag on boughs or an orc grasping them.

The wild elf led his horse into the forest following my brief description of the place, and Faire trailed after him. I watched her bright coat disappear in the mottled light and dark patches uncomfortably. I was used to fighting in a team with her from start to finish. To have her come into the fight later was sensible, but I missed her cool, steadfast presence in this.

I did not have to wait long for Bearclaw to return, and we crept forward in the direction of the camp. Despite his heavy weapons the wild elf moved with surprising swiftness and stealth. He did not disturb a single branch.

Not knowing where exactly the orcs were and if they had posted sentinels we had to move especially careful. There was only a little distance between us, but we signalled to each other rather than risk a whisper. We followed aside from the trail Bearclaw had mentioned. After a long while creeping through the underbrush I stopped suddenly. Glancing aside I saw Bearclaw freezing at the same instant. The wild elf nodded and made a small motion indicating I should stay where I was. Slowly, Bearclaw moved on. With his hood drawn low over his eyes he almost looked like the bear whose skin he wore.

There was a sudden rustle ahead, and I swiftly wormed my way forward through high grass, taking care not to disturb the branches hanging low above me. Then I found myself face to face with a dead orc, Bearclaw ducked to the ground beside his victim.

I moved up beside the wild elf and glanced at the orc. There was no sign of a weapon on him. Bearclaw made a wringing motion with his hands, and grinned sheepishly "Saw him too late" he mouthed.

_Wonderful, _I thought wryly _Now what_? Leave the corpse. We would make a hell of a racket trying to cover it. I glanced up at the sky. Clouds were coming up and it was getting dusky. Stay here and lie low until dark?

Bearclaw tugged at my sleeve, pointing forward. We could not be far from the camp. I shrugged. If we were discovered now, to hell with it.

We moved on together once more. We would be inside the ring of sentinels now. To our utter surprise the camp was filled with mostly sleeping orcs. Four sat up together, casting bones in a pit in what seemed a game. One seemed to win and got bashed over the head by his companion as reward. The metal helm rang dully, and the one who had struck reaped a slash across his face.

Sleeping! That was definitely something new. They must feel oh so secure here. I watched them with loathing. I had a mind to charge right into the sleeping creatures and give them an untimely awakening. Or better, to let them not awake at all.

I glanced at Bearclaw and made a patting motion, suggesting to stay where we were until dark. Or until the waking orcs would force us into action. The wild elf shook his head. He leant close to me, but still I had to strain to hear his whispered short objection "I go back and kill sentinels fast. You find a tree and shoot now. Never mind the night. Call the horse, too"

We had come too far anyway. The risk was greater to alert the sentinels when we crawled back and have the whole pack on us at once. We should wait for the cover of darkness – but then, they were night-creatures. That would play to their strength.

I gave a curt nod. Bearclaw melted into the underbrush. I waited a moment, scanning the trees. A suitable one was several feet away. The opposite direction Bearclaw had taken. I shrugged and slowly made for the tree, expecting to run into a sentinel myself. At the foot of the tree I halted, and then froze. There was a sentinel alright, some distance away, staring into the opposite direction. Orcs had a keen sense of smell but poor eyesight by day. The light wind blew into my face, though. If I was silent…

For a moment I considered killing the watcher, but then decided against it. I killed fast, but not soundless. Not as soundless as Bearclaw. Slowly, holding my breath and moving with utmost care I straightened and laid my hands against the tree. Before I could climb it, a dark shape moved out of the thorn bush behind the orc. Bearclaw wrapped his arms around the orc's face, cutting off the startled growl and muffling the sound with his bear cape. There was crunch, and the orc slumped lifeless. I nodded in admiration. Bearclaw gave me a truly bloodthirsty grin and gestured upwards.

The tree had smooth bark and was easy to climb. I moved into position and took aim. From here my sight was obscured by leaves, but I could see enough for safe shooting. I took my bow and shifted the quiver into position. Bearclaw glided towards the orcs. From above, even his motions were bear-like. I saw him crouch and slip his axe off his shoulder.

I fixed the four waking orcs with a dark glance. Surprise froze the orcs momentarily still, and only the fourth managed a hoarse cry that woke every orc in the camp. I aimed for the heads, eyes and throats. In the sudden milling I took out four more before the orcs realized which direction the arrows were coming from and a literal hail of answering arrows forced me to drop to the ground hastily. From there, I hit another orc before they ran for me. I slung my bow over my back and pulled out my sword. Two passed Bearclaw, the wild elf remaining still undetected, and attacked me. Bearclaw fell on the backs of those that followed their quicker comrades towards me.

I did not see much else than huge dirty plate-armour for a while, hacking, slashing and blocking blows. One orc tripped over a root and I smashed my sword over the unprotected neck. I paid for that in catching a painful blow across my shoulder. It did not penetrate the armour, but the force of it made me stagger and numbed my arm for a painful moment. Regretting not having dropped my bow I rolled ungainly to bring distance between me and the other orc, thinking I would ask Faire to kick me if I managed to get my own bow broken. Behind us, Bearclaw roared wildly, and for a second, the orc was distracted. I reversed the wide arc I had aimed for my opponent's side and instead drove the point of my blade into the orc's belly, throwing my weight against the hilt. The violence of my strike flung the orc back against the tree and I felt the steel hit wood. Somewhere near I heard hooves thundering, then Faire's angry screech. Avoiding the dying orc's clawing grasp I retreated, pulling the blade back and finishing the creature off with a swipe. I turned to the other orcs and found Bearclaw holding off three with shield and axe.

'Faire, this would be a good moment to enter the battle proper'

I ran over to Bearclaw, slamming my blade into the unprotected back of the nearest orc. The creature collapsed with a gargle, spitting blood. I stumbled over the bodies of three orcs that had already fallen to the wild elf's axe and backed off warily. Bearclaw was keeping a wide area around himself clear of orcs, but also of possible back guards. Faire's appearance at the other end of the camp offered a distraction that allowed me to snatch my bow and shoot two more, then Faire was among them and I would not risk hitting her. She ploughed a trail through the few remaining orcs, maiming more than she killed. Bearclaw caught one of his orcs with a slash across its belly and his axe snuck in the steel plate. Both elf and orc went to the ground struggling. Faire crushed the other orc, bowling him over and trampling. Her hooves rang on the armour, and she slipped and stumbled.

'Don't break your neck!'

I crossed into the middle of the camp, grimacing at the smell that hung around the trampled area. I quickly moved around Faire's victims, killing what had not died under her hooves. A last orc attacked me, growling with hate. Briefly I noted that this one's armour was cleaner and in better repair than that of the other orcs, and some crude design in dark red was painted on the breast-plate. Probably a high-ranking one. I did not care. I wanted them dead. This last opponent gave me some work, though. Mostly, orcs lacked finesse in fighting, but in one-to-one combat they were respectable enemies. This one was not leader for no reason, I thought, twisting back to avoid a mean feint. Considerably shorter than I, the orc had the advantage to hit areas I could not well defend. I was forced to retreat several times to avoid blows to my knees and thighs. Parrying them would always leave me defenceless to one side or give the orc an opportunity to strike at my shoulder or head.

Faire was busy keeping orcs off Bearclaw for a moment, then she returned to me. Rearing, she lashed out with her fore-hooves, driving the orc back. I advanced, but Faire finished her kill without my intervention. There was a wet crunch as her hooves cracked the orc's skull open. There would be a fair amount of orc-brain to brush out of her fur tonight, I thought grimly.

I looked for Bearclaw. The wild elf moved around the site, checking for survivors. There were none. I went to him where he crouched inspecting the orcs' gear. His left arm was slick with blood still flowing freely from a deep gash.

"You're alright?"

"Yea. Looks worse than it is" Bearclaw went through the smelly packs with a system, picking out daggers, knives and other metal things "I don't suppose you care for any of this?"

I shook my head. The smell of orc blood and less pleasant things hung heavy over the place. The pungent aroma of trampled foliage and grass mingled with that. I glanced up to see if carrion birds had already taken an interest into the events, but the trees were empty yet. I walked around looking for clues that might tell me if there were other orcs near, but found nothing. Even if they had had written orders, I thought, I would not have been able to read them. The packs and what were probably bedrolls numbered up to the orcs we had killed, I noted with satisfaction. Bearclaw did his own scavenging with cool efficiency. I went over to Faire and rummaged in her saddlebags for a clean rag. Rolling it into a ball I cast it to Bearclaw.

"Here, catch"

The wild elf caught it deftly and grunted in thanks, tying the cloth around his arm and pulling it tight with his teeth before returning to his inspection. I glanced at the former orc-leader, then shook my head. I went to one Bearclaw had killed, recognizable by the split in the solid armour, and rolled the carcass over with one foot. That would do. With a forceful swipe I severed the orc's grimacing head and rammed it on the end of a broken spear. It produced a sickly, slurping crunch. I stuck the sharpened spear-tip into the soft soil at the edge of the camp. It took some force to dig it in firmly, and I grimaced at the pain in my shoulder. If any orcs happened to pass here, should they see what had happened to their comrades.

Bearclaw finished his inspection and came over to me, cleaning his axe with a bloody rag. He gave the trophy a leer.

"Nice idea. Could have been Darkstone's"

I shrugged "I wish he could still feel it"

"Huh" Bearclaw cinched the straps holding his axe in place tighter "Hateful, are we? Your lady is a good fighter, by the way"

"You tell her"

"I did" Bearclaw glanced around "We should pile these wretches, don't you think?"

"I don't give a damn if they rot where they lie" I said "Wasted time"

It was long after nightfall when we came to a small lake Bearclaw knew and rested there. Faire looked for the brook running out from it and splashed into the water, cooling her legs and trying to get rid of the dried blood. I had no grooming supplies and the best I could do was getting her to lie down in the brook and kneeling beside her in the water, rubbing her fur with my hands. Bearclaw cast off his fur-cloak and weapons and stripped without hesitation, wading out into the pond.

"Come on" he looked back at me "You'll never get rid off the smell"

"Who are you telling that?" I muttered as I followed the wild elf's example. The water was icy, dark and the ground underfoot slimy. I held my breath and ducked under water, rubbing dirt and blood out of my hair. The past year had consisted of this, hellish cold baths taken only out of necessity, fighting dirt and smell without soap and towels. I knew I took it with ill grace, but the image of a hot tub loomed enticingly before my inner eye. Bearclaw had more practice. He methodically cleaned himself off, tore the soaked bandaged off his arm and rubbed the wound clean without so much as a grimace.

"Hot bath" I muttered "Just think it's _hot_"

Bearlaw heard me and laughed, wading towards the bank "Oh don't talk about it. I can't even remember what it feels like"

I left the lake as well, casting about for something to use as a towel, not wanting to climb back into my clothes dripping wet. Well, it was wind-drying again.

"Look here" Bearclaw said as I sat down awkwardly "Main thing you'll learn with us is this: forget about modesty. There's no way you can keep that up anyway. So move over here and give me a hand with this cursed bandage, yes?"

"Right" I obeyed, more than from force of habit and awkwardness than anything else "If you order everyone about like that I see why Glorfindel's nobles aren't fond of scouting with you" I said grumpily, covering my embarrassment quite nicely, I thought.

"Ah, but I'm not" Bearclaw grinned "Only you. Because you're just smart enough not to take offence"

"Oh, so I am?" I tied the rag around Bearclaw's arm and grimaced sardonically "What're you up to?"

"Huh, sharp one, yes?" Bearclaw craned his head to look at me "First of all, get your hackles down. I'm not in for flirts, least of all with males. Second, that's the way we do things – if you ever stay with us, you'll see. Not all of us are lucky enough to have a partner in this life, so the group covers" He stretched unconcernedly "Thank you. Now, I would offer you help with that mane of yours, but I suppose that's private or mate business with your people, right?"

I stared at the dark pond for a moment. He set a rapid pace, that one. Silmarusse would have liked him. And hell, she had always been right. Bearclaw was right.

"Yes. But as you observed, not all of us are blessed with a partner. Go ahead, but don't complain about going handmaid"

Bearclaw laughed "Hand_maid_, hardly. I tell you, it's impossible to keep taking shifts at the water-hole, better get used to it at once. Don't have a comb, do you?"

Smiling, I shook my head. Well, not what I had expected the wild elf to be like, but really – what _had _I expected?

"Don't get your hopes up, I'm not a good shot at this kind of handiwork" Bearclaw said, fighting with the numerous knots. He shoved the damp mass of hair over my shoulder to start with one side "And I'll want compensation. Huh" he added, tapping his fingers lightly on an old scar "Not the greenhorn you look to be, really"

"I look like a greenhorn?" I laughed "That's news to me"

"But you do" Bearclaw teased "Just like a moment ago, going blanch on me thinking I was courting"

It was too tempting not to join the banter "Who said that was because of the fact? It's not unusual. Maybe it was because of you"

"Ah yes, Old Bearclaw would not make a cuddly mate, I suppose. But I didn't know it was fine among your people – quite some of us got in trouble because of just that taste"

"Ha, _old_ Bearclaw. I bet you're half my age"

"Yes I fear so" Bearclaw agreed comfortably "But really, it's easier to find partners on the male side than a lady. And we hardly get a chance to flirt with non-outlaws"

"Well, _my_ lady would have liked you" I said without thinking, then stopped myself, shocked that I would say this to Bearclaw. It was just not – proper.

To hell with proper. He had made me talk about her and smile at the same time. Valar's grace, I should be grateful no end! She had always asked me to-.

"Well, she must have been a crazy one then, if you think she'd have had a knack for an outlawed killer" Bearclaw grinned.

"She _was_ crazy" I stated with another laugh that surprised myself "She took _me_"

"Hum" Bearclaw sobered a little "I'd say she had good sense, though. I wish I could have met her"

"Yes. So do I" I muttered. Despite his denial, Bearclaw had deftly worked his way through the tangles and re-braided my hair. I sat down behind him to take my turn.

"She was your lady's horse, wasn't she?" Bearlaw said after a moment silence, nodding his head slightly towards Faire, who stood half asleep beside his own brown horse.

I frowned "Why do you think _that_?"

"Well, she is a lady's horse. Looking too slight to stand a long chase, not to mention a fight -and no one but a lady would have acknowledged her suitability to both and had the guts to train her for fighting. Your lady had, and she left her for you. Your in luck, because you're still just within the size and weight for her. That's what I'd say just looking at her"

I licked my lips and concentrated on fabricating a neat, firm braid. Bearclaw's hair was shorter than mine, and all of different lengths, so I had quite some time capturing all stray strands.

"Yes" I said finally "I suppose you're right. Still, she could have been anybody's, don't you think?"

"No" Bearclaw said firmly "The way you treat her, _she _almost is your lady. And she is a hell of a fighter. No, you two are just a bit too good to be just horse and rider by ways of a good deal. My -" he felt the tight braid "That's no-nonsense stuff. That should hold till the binding rots off"

"Not so bad" I smiled and stretched as well. My shoulder was throbbing "So what is the plan, master scout? We are dry now"

Bearclaw smirked "First we get dressed. See, greenhorn" he added with satisfaction "You _do _blush"

I shook my head in exasperation and turned to pick up my clothing. Bearclaw looked away into the night for a moment "We should go back and report. That is, go back quick and keep to both sides of the old trail again. So no rest tonight"

I nodded, pulling on my clothes and wishing I had brought a spare set. Well, after this year I should be used to both – dirty clothing, and riding after a bone-wrenching fight.

"The others should have returned before us by then. If their spaces are clear, we can concentrate on bringing the caravan through this funnel double quick" I said, trying to ignore the insistent voice telling me gleefully, _no, you damn well won't. _

Bearclaw snorted "And even double quick, that's not fast enough"

Chapter notes:

Lamandil: (Q) "animal-friend"

Mithfaun: (S) "white-mist cloud"

Macar: (Q) "sword-fighter"

Leucalinde: (Q) "snake-singer"

Morcollo: (Q) "black cloak"

Nandaro: (Q) "harper"

Rastatinwi: (Q) "twelve stars"

Rhevain: (S) plural of _rhavan_, "savage" ((Q) ráva "wolf").

- I wonder if there were full-blooded outlaws among the elves who were turned out of whatever community they had belonged to for severe crimes. There were certainly outcasts, especially elves who had escaped slavery in Angband. For this story I assume that there were enough outlaws/outcasts of all elven 'races' that they formed their own, loose community and with some cynicism adopted the name given to them. The dialect they use among themselves I call 'rhevain' as well (as in Avarin, Noldorin etc. – if you know what the proper name for that language should be, please tell me).

15


	7. Chapter 7 Gates

**Gates**

Gildor's POV

Gondolin, FA 126

When all scouts had returned we sat down around a rough plan of the countryside. Darkstone and Mithfaun had found and eliminated two stray orcs, but no others. Finally we agreed on packing up right now and funnelling the whole company into the narrow land to hopefully be out by tomorrow afternoon. Glorfindel sent a set of his own scouts ahead to look for a suitable resting place for the host, and the wild elves fanned out around the train. I watched them in action and was impressed. They used a number of intricate gestures and signs which ensured an immediate, soundless communication. They melted away into the trees and bushes, but one of them always remained in our sight to relay any warning to us. On one of his numerous trips back and forth along the line of the train Glorfindel slowed and rode beside me for a moment.

"If they don't see each other or it was night they would use bird-calls. I'll never see how they keep that in mind, but they will always use the _right _calls, fitting for time of year and region. Whenever they do some assignment like this, they meet up and decide on the variety and significance of calls. It's just _amazing_. By the way, have you made a decision?"

I stared at the captain for a moment "No" I said finally "If anything, Bearclaw has made it harder. It's really easy feeling at home with them, don't you think?"

"Sometimes I wonder. I like them, you know? Whatever they were before, or are outside of our deals, those that I met, and Bearclaw's lot especially, have all been decent and honest. They are excellent woodmen, hunters and fighters, they scout better than any hound, and I have a notion _their _groups are a far shot from our bickering and intrigue"

I looked down at Faire's neck in front of me "It's a damn hard life. I have only tasted it about a year, and I am nearly fed up. Once in their place, I suppose, you'll never have a chance to go back"

"You're thinking about joining them, are you?" Glorfindel looked at me, hard "Think about that twice. Not because of what they are. But because of what you will be viewed as if ever you stick your nose back into our business here. Our relationship to the elves that stayed here will not get better, and neither that to the rhevain, I think. There is a line between rhevain and others, just because of the extent of what you have to _do_ to become one of them"

"I don't know anything" I said wearily "I have no time to find a clear thought on this trip, and all I know is that Bearclaw was the first to make me laugh in moons. Really Glorfindel, it is tempting. But I don't know. Your secret city seems as much a one-way decision as becoming one of the rhevain. Maybe even more so"

Glorfindel gave a small sigh "I wish I had an answer. To anything. No one here seems to have time to decide what he really wants" There was a whistle from the front to prove that "Curse it, I must be trotting"

The attempt to get the caravan through the valley-like space was torture. By the time we had them all squeezed into the opening and popped out on the other side, the host's order was in pieces, one wagon broken beyond repair, and several horses spooked no end from the haste, cramped marching and general chaos. The host pooled in the uneven meadow beyond, with near apoplectic guards circling around the wagons and Glorfindel swarming all over the place to restore order and command.

I sat on Faire's back and stuck my knuckles into my eyes. I had been riding tail-guard and was near asleep on Faire, riled no end.

"I swear to you, I will never try and herd civilians in a semblance of military order _anywhere, _let alone across land like this" I told her.

"Calathaura!" Glorfindel's voice shook me out of my vow "We stay here tonight. It's completely unsuited, so see what guards you can rout out. Sent outriders to circle, we _must _not be set upon here, with the hills at our back. We've got to get the horses calmed and reload the damned goods before we can even think of moving anywhere with speed. And see that you get some rest"

"Yes captain, sure" I snarled softly. At least he had not told the world that I used to be Inglor's son. I took stock of the situation for a moment, then set to give my orders. Night was falling, and for once, things were carried out as they should have been. "I'll never, never take on a command like Glorfindel's! Did I say this?"

Faire shook her head vigorously °Repeatedly°

A few hours later I spread my bedroll out beside Faire, who stood with her head hanging. Her lower lip twitched slightly, a sure sign she was fast asleep. I grinned. Well, I would tease her about that tomorrow. Right now, I wanted to sleep as badly as she, and not even the sounds from the rest of the company kept me awake long.

We left at first light. Some that had been on night duty were actually asleep in their saddles, but that day and the following we made good speed. Moreover, no incidents slowed us in any way. I could leave most of it to Faire and follow my own thoughts, trying to come to terms with what I could not even define as 'clearing my situation'. Sometimes I thought I should never have taken Glorfindel's offer to ride with the caravan, then I thought I should make some more effort to make friends with the captain. That is, Glorfindel made enough attempts to make me feel comfortable, and to find out things about me. That went on mostly on the basis of shared past, if shared it could be called. We had grown up in the west, and come across the Ice. It was just that he as captain was hardly supposed to get friendly with anyone outside a good working relationship. Other times, I was sure I should stay with the rhevain. But then, neither life, the city nor the wild, seemed truly appealing to my heart in its entirety. I was so screwed up inside that sometimes I wished for orcs to be found, just to be able to fight and relieve some of the tension.

So we came to the mountains, and were intercepted by a small force of scouts from inside the hidden city. They rode in perfect formation, and their livery was as uniform as it was magnificent. They appeared to be more guards than scouts, I thought. Silvery white or grey garments were not very suitable for scouting.

The ground became rocky and steep, and utterly nonnegotiable with wagons. We halted, and after a short exchange between Glorfindel and the guards took charge of some of our scouts, forming several groups of the large host. The sudden effectiveness with which the goods and people were distributed and went off reminded me of the systematic chaos on an anthill. Things dwindled and disappeared to nowhere specific. The wild elves would leave us here. They were neither allowed nor did they want to see any possible entrance to whatever city. I was in turmoil. I did not want to leave Bearclaw, who had turned into a tentative friend. Neither could I truly commit myself to a life as the wild elves led it. _Not yet at any rate, _a voice inside my brain whispered. So what was left? Going on alone, or going into the city. I could safely rule out going alone. I had even got a clear 'no' out of Faire – neither of us had a deep desire to spend another year like the last.

Sometimes I wondered if I should not return to Nargothrond. But whatever Finrod thought or said, I would be as alone there as I would be in the City. And somehow I felt Silmarusse's death had ended my time among Finrod's riders irrevocably. We were friends, yes, but he was also king now. As friend, I wanted to return and stay, but I would never be close enough that whatever I could do would be of use to _him_. Not now, not since I was Calathaura instead of Gildor.

So the city remained. But then – what would we do there? What would I do? Going there meant fitting into just that bickering court Silmarusse and I had gladly left before.

For a long while, I was busy helping with the distribution, but was told to stay and not lead one of the smaller groups to wherever they were going. For the time being, the wild elves were there yet, staying at the margins of our host. The day passed slowly and busily, but the night drew out even more. I took the first watch, wearily, but then sat wide awake and pondering. The next day was cold and windy, the sky overcast. Towards the horizon the clouds seemed to blacken into a dark haze. I was off duty regularly, and as no one informed me otherwise I rode a little further into the mountains alone. I did not get far because guards I had not noticed appeared and stopped me. I told them what I wanted to do, and, realizing I was yet scout-captain they let me go, passing on orders of Glorfindel's. If I wanted to go out I was to return before midnight, following the trail from our meadow eastward to find the captain. That was curious, but I did not question this and took my piece of freedom quickly. With Faire I followed several small tracks that looked likely to lead some shelter, hoping vaguely to find the rhevain before they left completely. Going uphill we finally came to a steeply sloping meadow in which a few scraggly trees grew. There we stopped. I found no rest and paced back and forth slowly while Faire tore grass from the hard ground. Repeatedly she tossed her head in irritation when the gales blew her mane into her eyes. The high mountains towered sullen and ominous behind us as we lingered in there. The ragged trees around the grassy patch bent this way and that in the wind rushing over the mountainside.

"We should go back now, you know?" I said into the wind after a long while staring at the hazy patches of the lower lands that were visible.

°Yes° Faire did not stop in her systematic reduction of the last fresh grass of the year.

I sighed "You're just waiting for me to say now, do you? That's easy, horse"

Faire snorted and replied nothing.

"Calathaura?"

I spun, and Faire jerked her head up in surprise. Neither of us had heard Bearclaw approach over the sounds of rushing wind.

"Bearclaw!" I exclaimed in surprise "What are you doing here still? I thought you had turned back already" I felt inordinately grateful to see the wild elf leader once again before literally closing the door on this life. Bearclaw dropped the reins of his shaggy brown horse and came towards us slowly, smiling "No. I am surprised he let us stay on so close to that mysterious entrance of your city, but here I am. Glorfindel wanted a word with me, he said you were still out here somewhere, so I came looking"

"They're waiting for us" I said "There are still guards around, also, so we could take our time until they close the doors"

"Not terribly excited about it, are you?"

"Don't rub it in, wild elf"

"I won't" Bearclaw eyed me thoughtfully "So. I was going to say farewell"

"Yes" I plucked at Faire's mane "I'm sorry. It was not an easy decision"

"Well, no, I can imagine" Bearclaw smiled briefly "Do not apologize for your decisions, least of all to me. Here" He rummaged around under his ragged bearskin cape "Keep that. If you ever want to track me down, use it"

He pushed a small round metal plaque on a tightly woven leather thong into my hand. There was an artfully detailed picture of a mantling hawk engraved on one side, a series of symbols on the other. I turned the small badge around. Metal was precious to the wild elves, and this was no crudely made thing "I… – what is it?"

Bearclaw tapped his chest lightly "Hawk Clan. That is what my group belongs to. Remember? We have five clans or whatever you want to call them, hawk clan is the smallest. The symbols here tell you where to find our main caches. You remember the map we showed you?"

"Yes, but-"

"Bah. No but. Anyone making trouble when you and your lady turn up, you show them this. It's the best token I can give you that will not shrivel in fire or water"

"Indeed" I stared at the symbols, once more wondering if I was not making a mistake in going into the city "Thank you, Bearclaw"

"If my people have learned one thing it is that no city lasts forever" the wild elf said after a moment "Even if it is so well hidden that not a whiff of smoke escapes"

"You're so cheerful"

Bearclaw looked grave for a moment, but then grinned "Always…houses don't last, but forests do. You know where you can find me"

"That can be in a terribly long time"

The wild elf spread his arms "I have no urgent appointments in the next few centuries"

I smiled wryly "Well, barbarian, if you are willing to wait. It will certainly make things easier" I embraced Bearclaw tightly "Take care they don't dig you up in your burrow one spring"

"Not a chance, I don't hibernate. My lady -" Bearclaw turned to Faire "Don't forget how to kill orcs in that city of theirs"

Faire dipped her head once, and gave him a friendly shove. Then he mounted his horse and turned him downhill, waving back at us once. I watched him go, grateful that he had managed to keep this easy, and feeling my heart sink as I thought of the city. I knew no one there. If I passed those gates, there was nothing beyond where I had a place. Whatever I would have to do, where to go, I would have to find out. On my own but for Faire. The thought was frightening.

I followed the directions the guards had given me. Faire and I soon came from the path to what looked like a river of jumbled stones, winding narrowly through the mountains rising on either side. Night fell slowly, and we went cautiously because Faire had to pick her footing with care. I went ahead, keeping to a thin strip where the ground was hard and even between the loose rocks. Faire followed mutely. The land was empty and silent, but I felt tired and dismal enough not to worry overmuch what may be around us. I had been told this was the way to go, and that it would be watched. The only thing worrying me marginally was that I might not come on time now that night came early. But the way _was_ watched, and soon I was challenged by a voice that came, once more, from nowhere particular. I halted, and declared my name and orders. A grey-clad elf came out of his cover among the stones and approached me "You have reached the end of the Dry River. I will lead you from here. It is just a short way to where Glorfindel awaits you, but you would not find the way which is possible for your horse to cross"

He was right. At a nondescript spot the grey-clad guard left me and returned to what was obviously his assigned place. Exhausted, I walked on with a hand on Faire's neck, relishing for a moment the feel of coarse grass underfoot instead of shifting rocks. It was a narrow, sloping meadow, but I mounted once more. The grass-covered ground wound on similarly to the Dry River for a while before ending in a small dell. Another guard, this one looking jumpy and overtaxed, caught me at the dell's edge, saying he would take me to Glorfindel. I wondered vaguely how he knew my name and destination but focused mainly on my surroundings. The wagons had disappeared some miles below, at the beginning of this winding path. No one was to be seen, nor any traces of such a great passing as the host would surely have made. The guard did not bother to introduce himself so I, tired and glum, did not bother to dismount and rode behind him on an equally disgruntled and tired Faire as he led me to wherever I was supposed to go.

"I don't know how, but we made it here unnoticed. I cannot believe it" Glorfindel greeted me as we turned a corner behind the guard. He was alone, waiting where the grass-grown floor ended among more rocks and boulders.

"And I finally have them all off my hands. Turgon owes me. Oh he owes well"

"What is going to happen now?" I asked, looking around at the empty land.

Glorfindel shrugged "We are going inside. Don't ask me what they will do with the mortal horses, but I know ours will have the climb of their lives. Caves and tunnels to mole through, and ridges I have no idea how we are supposed to get them across"

"You know I won't leave her. No way"

"Calm down" Glorfindel frowned "If we cannot go this way, there will be another. They get the mules through, somehow, and the big stuff. No one would dare ask you to leave your horse"

I shrugged, staring at the mountains. We were in the foothills yet, but the way we were to go the mountains towered high enough to have snow-covered tips. Cold wind seemed to fall down from the heights. For a moment, the wild impulse to tell Faire to run and not stop until she could run no longer was almost overpowering. _Madness_. I squeezed my eyes shut. I was hungry, tired and cold. I had wound the wild elf's pendant around my wrist, having had no time to tie the thong properly to make a necklace. Now I clutched the plaque tightly, feeling the edges cold and sharp against my palm.

"Come on" Glorfindel said softly.

I jerked out of my confusion, and Faire fell into step beside Glorfindel's horse. We were following another guard who I had not noticed coming to us. He wore a long mail-shirt, with a long grey cloak over it. A landing eagle was embroidered on the back, and also stamped on his leather-hauberk. I saw that only when he turned to check if the horses were keeping up with his swift pace. Turgon's arms, I remembered. The same eagle was on the silver pendant Glorfindel had shown me. Though we were going deeper into the mountains we were descending down into a narrow, winding ravine. The walls rose higher and higher as we descended, and the very air seemed to darken in the gloomy day.

"We are the last of the company to enter" Glorfindel answered my unspoken question.

"Why?" I was genuinely startled "Did I delay you-?"

"No, of course not. For a while I thought you would not come at all, anymore. But I was to see my company safely inside before going in, right?"

I frowned "And why am I here yet, then? I was part of your company"

"So you are. But you also are scout-captain. So you ride with me"

"But I am not-"

"You will be once we are inside the city and I have the freedom to form my own company" he said calmly "If you accept, that is"

"What do you need scouts in…there?"

Glorfindel grinned "I wonder in where you would have said had you freely spoken. But we need scouts, of course. Locking the doors and never peeking out will hardly do, except to have us fall sooner than we built"

"I am not the right choice" I said stiffly.

"So?" Glorfindel slowed his horse a moment so Faire came directly alongside him "Why not? Because you waived a title that would have availed very little inside these walls? Will you never dare to be Gildor on your own? You lost a title, not your name. What do you want to do, Calathaura? Don't you still know it?"

"No" I said angrily "I still don't, captain"

We followed the guard in silence for a while. I wondered what he had heard or would make of our little argument.

"Listen to me a moment. I have never told you what you are to expect here. As long as I was not sure you would come here, I was not allowed to speak. If you think it is bad enough you have to swear fealty to a king you don't know and don't want to have an assignment on your hands that would keep you busy especially in the first moons, that is well. But I think you still misjudge the size and scope of this. The plain and the mountains around the city are wide and wild. We will need scouts, and that would be your chance to be out of the city when you wish"

"At someone's behest"

"Mine, admittedly. But would that grate on you so much? I would find ways not to send you if you would not want to go"

"I would be a poor scout then, and a poorer captain, don't you think?"

He sighed "You manage to turn whatever I say"

"Then please speak plainly. What are my choices, what my orders? What am I to expect?"

"That is what I am trying to tell you! You still have the chance to determine what you want to have. What you think you need. I know nothing of you. What did you do before you fought? Were you artisan, singer, craftsman? You have all the freedom to do what you wish here"

I shook my head "Scout or guard, it is fine. But have you looked at them? And have you looked at me? I don't think I could or would want to fit in such a company. And I think I have little energy or will right now to hold that place against all naggings and challenges you know will come up. If I accept your offer"

"Alright. You evade my questions, so it is hard to give satisfactory answers. I will try to be plain. Turgon has made it clear, very clear, that this city is to function – without bickering that would drive a wedge between the different groups right from the start. There are Eldar here, Noldor who were born in Middle-earth, and Sindar from Nevrast and the adjoining lands. There are no fixed rankings, very little orders that will be taken as blueprints from the outside. Some companies and regiments are formed already, yes, but they will have to accommodate changes or simply risk dispersion and new mixing by Turgon himself. What you have seen were Turgon's personal riders and guards. I daresay they are a bit…unreachable in a way. But you know that _my_ house is small, and a great part of those who wear my badge were not born into that. I intend to keep it that way. From within the house, you will have to fear neither naggings nor challenges. From without, well, you have the king's authority to hold against that, just as anyone else who gets into new or higher positions than before will have"

"I can't believe there is no one among your original following who would not better deserve the position you offer me. You must have just as well or even better experienced scouts than me"

"Maybe I would have. But no one with the ability to lead"

I snorted softly "I have _temporarily_ led wings in _skirmishes_. The riders in those companies knew as little of me as I of them. You ask me to lead what will become a closely-knit company where each knows the other well"

"And you are afraid they get to know you?"

"Yes" I said bluntly.

"But do you doubt your ability to lead? Do you really doubt it?"

I said nothing. I _could_ say nothing.

"Let me ask otherwise: Can you see yourself really taking orders from someone else, who in turn takes orders from someone and then from someone? Was my way just a bad alternative?"

I had to smile "Are you bribing me?"

"No" he grinned "I am just leading you on a chase to catch the goose you yourself set free. And now we have come full circle. Scout-captain might mean taking orders from me at one point – but it will also mean the immunity of _my_ word"

Well, I could imagine that if I joined an existing company the bickering might be nastier and meaner than if I helped building one up from little basis.

"That is an easy way then, for me, to escape whatever I fear"

"It is an easy way for me to find someone who does not lead because he thinks captain is the equivalent of honour. Will you think on it? Or will you agree?"

A few steps more and we could see a tunnel ahead, separated from us by a field of gravel and boulders. We would have to dismount here, and laboriously and slowly cross this. With one of the mortal horses, I would have felt my heart sink right now.

I sighed, and stared across the grey rubble for a moment. You did not throw away such a gift. And I was not thinking of the position as scout-captain, I was thinking of the friendship Glorfindel offered between the lines.

"I think I will agree" I said finally.

"Good" Glorfindel preceded us, following the guard towards the tunnel by another near invisible trail that was just barely wide enough for a horse to walk slowly and carefully. I watched the opening worriedly, but as we approached it became wider than it had appeared. Still, Glorfindel's stallion had to duck to get in. This would never have worked with wagons or horses. Mules maybe, but never with the mortal horses. Faire turned her head briefly as I dismounted, giving me a bitterly reproachful glance.

For indeterminable and unending seeming time we stumbled in the tunnel, following the hard, blue light of the guard's lantern before us. At times, the horses were forced to literally crawl on their knees, and I grimaced, knowing there would be bruises to treat and grazes to salve once we were out of here. Not to mention a sore pride. Glorfindel swore repeatedly. His mount was much harder put to it than the comparatively small and agile Faire.

As endless as it had seemed as abruptly the tunnel ended. Or rather, it widened out into a cave "This is the cavern of the Outer Guard" our leader said, the first he had spoken in all the time except to warn us of obstacles "Would you rest here a while, or go on to the Second Gate straight away? It is a longer way, but there you can feed and see to your horses as well"

"Go on" Glorfindel decided, glancing at me "The horses are not hurt and will prefer a rest out from underground to this cavern as much as we will"

On leaving the cavern the floor became even, and both we and the horses could walk easily. We passed a wooden gate, and came into a ravine that looked as if it had been cleft by the stroke of a mighty axe. Unreachably far above the tips of the mountains were visible, black against the pale sky. I glanced at the sky in surprise. Dawn? Had we spent all the remaining night scrambling in the mountains and the tunnel? I certainly felt like it. I was stiff, weary and cold. The road we followed climbed steeply now, but it was paved and the horses' hooves rang dully on the smooth stone-tiles, casting soft, ominous echoes into the dark ravine falling away at our side.

"How many gates are there?" I asked softly.

"Two so far" Glorfindel said glumly "But the way is long to the first, and several times longer from the second to the entrance of the city. We have to go far yet, I fear"

He was right. It was possible to ride on the steep but smooth road, and finally we mounted, feeling quite selfish as we did so. Time dragged on. We rested for a while when we came to the top of the rising road. It was late afternoon and we went on far too soon. I wondered if I could fall asleep on my feet when finally we approached an enormous wall built right across the ravine, topped with dark, uninviting towers.

"This is the second gate" our guide said "Up to now the last. More will follow, but there was no time yet, and we did not have the craftsmen for the work nor the materials"

One more step away from the free wilderness far below. I bit my lip and followed behind the guard and Glorfindel through the strange gate that opened before us. It fell shut noiselessly behind us, and our guard led us to the side, where there were cavern-like chambers in which small lights shone. There were a number of guards here. Some came and gave us buckets with water and grain. I silently appreciated the self-understood order of horses first, but was deeply grateful just to slump beside a munching Faire and shut my eyes against the strange and unsettling sights.

Glorfindel shook me awake a little later – very little later, I saw, because Faire had not yet finished her small pile of hay.

"Vingaear here says we had better stay here. The hardest part is yet to come, and it will be night soon"

I nodded "Then why do you wake me? I had just started to feel blissfully oblivious"

He smiled, and I didn't know if it was amusement or sympathy "Because you have to eat. Here – simple guard-fare, but better than what my host had the last few days"

I took the small platter and earthenware mug with relief "If that is what comes with being scout-captain I feel a bit more reconciled to the idea"

"So if I couldn't bribe you, at least now I know I can bait you with food?"

I shrugged. For a time we ate in silence, hunched between the loose straw and the little supply of hay-bales in the cavern.

"I dread that court, you know?" I said finally, unable to keep that overpowering notion to myself. Glorfindel glanced at me, but I could not see his face clearly in the dim lantern-light.

"You will be alright. You know your way around a court" he said matter-of-factly.

I blinked "Fine that at least one is confident - and what makes you think that?"

"You betray yourself with little things, you know?" Glorfindel said happily "Even if it's just the way you always kept half a horse's length behind me, or let exactly the right people precede you out of a tent or door. You know the little trappings. You fit in without wanting to. That's why you never get into great, great trouble"

"I am too tired to point out that Silmarusse and I both _knew_ the trappings"

"And I am too tired to tell you would have to remember and act on them for a while more at any rate. Who can say how many trappings will remain valid? I trust you don't plan to fall out with Turgon's law straight away"

"We never planned to fall out with any law" I said "I still dread the possibility. And the court. And now I will call it a day because I almost fall asleep chewing"

"We can sleep in one of the guards' chambers as well" Glorfindel said as I rolled up in my cloak.

"We'd have to get our bedrolls" I objected, and as neither of us seemed particularly enthusiastic about that, we slept in the stables that night. The following day took us steeply upward for a long and weary climb. Cold wind blew constantly against us, and we were near frozen stiff until we reached what appeared to be not the top but at least the crest of the mountain. We had finally wound our way high above from where we had entered by the dry river, and had climbed through the mountains that encircled the city. From here, our way went down into the plain of Gondolin, and towards the city. It was dark and dreary, but nevertheless the city seemed to shine. A high tower stood far above the rest of the buildings, all made of white marble. Thin tendrils of cook-fires and hearths rose from some roofs. Quite a number of structures were unfinished and looked uncomfortably remindful of ruins, but after the barren rocks and dark tunnels I yearned for even that sanctuary.

Still I was not sure if I felt terrified, awed or glad. I listened to the brief description our guard gave us, naming the greatest buildings we could see from here, the plain and the hill upon which the city sat as upon a throne. Then we continued the narrow and steep way down, going on foot and in single file behind our guide, trailed by the horses. At its end was another cave for guards, this one obviously artificial. There our guide obtained a horse for himself and when we rode on to cross the plain it was in sudden sunlight, the green of the wide expanse of grass contrasting strongly with the white of the city before us. The distance from the mountains to the hill was far greater than I had expected. Even riding at a swift trot and occasionally gallop it was early evening before we reached the foot of the hill. Once more, we began climb, this time towards the city-gates. There had been no time and no opportunity to wash, so when we arrived in Turgon's court that night we were not only tired and dishevelled but we also smelled of horse.

Chapter Notes:

Vingaear: (Q) foam-sea


	8. Chapter 8 Messengers

**Messengers**

Gildor's POV

Gondolin

„Gildor! Come over here for a moment"

I followed the echo of Glorfindel's voice around the next large pillar, silently cursing the weird acoustics in this hall "Why don't you come to me for a change?" I asked testily "You've kept ordering me around all day, you could-…Oh, er, my king-"

I dropped to one knee, heat rising in my cheeks. Glorfindel laughed "I had but the order to get you here"

"Rise, Gildor. This is no audience" Turgon watched me thoughtfully "I…have to ask a…personal question"

I licked my lips nervously, wondering whatever personal concern of mine could interest the king.

"Ask it, my lord" I said when no one spoke.

"I was told you…might not be all too happy being cooped up within these walls"

I gave Glorfindel a hard glare, and he had the grace to smile guiltily.

"That is true" I said uncomfortably "So I asked to be assigned to the scouts and guards. I am more trouble within court than without"

Turgon shook his head, smiling "So far I have no objections. I was not going to criticize anything. It is this: we are sending ships"

"Ships?" I asked blankly.

"Into the west. I need messengers. Trusty messengers, with experience and courage. And a bit of madness, I suppose"

"No" I said, startled beyond measure "I will not contest the charge of madness, but I am neither sailor nor…diplomat. My lord, send anyone but do not ask me to go there- into the West"

The last came out as more of a plea than a request. I wondered how much Glorfindel had said. Obviously not enough _not_ to bring me into this clam.

Turgon blinked "Why not?"

I shook my head desperately. Whatever I could say, it would not be enough to refuse an assignment by the king.

"Turgon, I am not sure if I have said too little or too much" Glorfindel put in "I think Gildor was not exactly thinking about going as far as the shadow-seas when I said 'as far as possible'"

Turgon glanced at him for a moment "Well, I am going to take my question back, _why not_" he said to me after a moment "But I still need messengers"

"If you command me, I will go" I said, feeling a cold weight in my gut.

"I will command no one on to that road. But would you not go even if I had another destination for you than the western shores?"

"My lord?"

"Halfway. To Cirdan at the Havens"

"I would go there" I said cautiously, very much aware that I was definitely out of place to bargain with the king. I could bicker with Glorfindel about orders, but never with Turgon.

"This is not an order either" Turgon said "Think about it. You in fact will have the most complicated assignment of all those I will send – you are to return. Unaided, unguarded, and unnoticed. Speak to no one. Be seen by no one, either. Do not tarry on the road, leave no traces. Make thrice sure no one follows. I will ask only those to go who I am sure can master this without failure – we can not risk sending out any help if you are caught, even if within sight of the gate. But I am lecturing on things you will know for yourself"

I nodded mutely. My mind raced through hundreds of possibilities. I risked very much in looking at Glorfindel once more. I knew he would not be a messenger, and either way, it would mean saying goodbye for indeterminate time. Until I returned. If I returned. I had little illusions about the road. He gave a small nod.

"I will go, my lord" I said quietly "And return if I can"

"You know you put me in a cruel spot? Making me choose between my heart's desires this way?" I said that night as we lay together, the windows of my room flung wide to admit the warm summer-breeze. I was near the top of the guard-tower. No one had contested the room with me – it was hot in summer, chilly in winter, and a long climb up winding stairs. But I wanted it for the view. Living further down, with all you could see being houses or mountains beyond houses, drove me mad.

He shrugged easily "The world outside does not wait for you. But I will be here regardless. You would never have gone otherwise. And Turgon would not have asked you"

"I have to live up to whatever credits you gave me?"

"Gildor, Turgon still knows next to nothing about you. Because you don't talk"

"But you do, enough for us two obviously"

Glorfindel grinned "I had to. Because you would never have got out of here otherwise, as I said. I am quite confident that you will make it back safely. Otherwise I would _not_ have talked"

"Does he trust me?" I asked after a while.

"He trusts me" Glorfindel said delicately.

"Ah" I said dryly "I hope both your trust will be justified"

"Do you not want to go?"

I closed my eyes for a moment "I do want to go. So very much. It is just like…"

"Like he just did you a favour? Do you fear that?"

I shrugged "Why does he want someone to bring back word? Cirdan will not let him down. The messengers he sends will sail. That is a risk he might, I think, very easily avoid"

"You are the risk?"

"Yes. A city-elf alone with all kinds of choice information. To carry word back he does not really need to know because it is self-understood"

"Sometimes-" Glorfindel sighed "-I wished you were less pragmatic"

I pushed myself up to look at him "Sometimes I wish you would not avoid me on such questions as if I were a simple guard to take his orders and not ask why"

He grinned "But you are, captain. Look, if I catch a wolf and let him run again, he doesn't ask why I do it. He shows two clean pair of paws"

"A wild wolf? That's what I am?"

"Well…no. Not really. Look. Turgon asks you to bring back word because _none of our messengers returned, ever. _Whether on sea or on land. I think even if they reached the west they would never be allowed to return to say hello to us here. And Cirdan can send no messenger to us. You go out by command, and you return by command. You will be allowed to enter again. If we get word otherwise, it is from the near areas, by our own scouts – or by the eagles. And I believe he thinks their news are a bit…well, let's call it censored"

I blinked "He thinks Manwe's own birds would lie to us?"

Glorfindel groaned "You _are_ pragmatic"

"I am direct. So answer. Commander"

"I think you are a bit harsh calling it _lying_. He suspects they either do not want to or are ordered not to tell _all _of the truth. And what they see, they see with eagle's eyes. I think we need a bit more…down-to-earth-news"

"So" I lay back thoughtfully "And you think I tried to fool the Mandos once, I might just as well continue with Manwe himself? Well, you may be right – there is little I could make worse for me"

He glared at me "Don't talk like that"

"Why not?" I demanded "Can you prove otherwise?"

"Maybe not" he said, a little more earnest, but then grinned again "But I can forget. Or make believe. Care to take a chance?"

I grinned "Now _you_ are pragmatic"

"I just won't waste the time we have"

"And you always have the last word"

"Yes. And now shut up and enjoy"

It was late spring the next year when we finally left. I felt a bit strange going with a group of seven, all of who were to take the ships. For a while, I was regarded with a mixture of cautious mistrust and scorn. I cared little, though I missed Faire. I kept apart from the others and concentrated on the lands we crossed. The wonderful world, unordered wilderness and, thank Orome, deep forests instead of mountains wherever you looked, made up for the coolness of my comrades. A few days went by, and gradually their attitude relaxed. To my own surprise I found my skills in hunting and mostly quiet gathering not completely faded. I think that helped a great deal to endear me to my initially very withdrawn companions. We seldom hunted, though, and if we did, we took small prey. There was no time for larger kills, which inevitably would also leave traces, traces we could not afford. Mostly we lived on waybread, but I did not live on anything so much for considerable time than the exhilaration of freedom. The air seemed rich enough to drink it, the colours brighter and the sky wider and dusk and dawn more glowing than they ever were in the sheltered city. Not even a strip of days full of storm and cold rain could quell my mood. I felt like a hawk turned loose from someone's fist.

To some degree, my companions understood and shared that mood, but as the days of hard journeying and travelling under cover lengthened they more and more concentrated on fulfilling the mission they had promised themselves to. At least they did not appear to continue covertly mistrusting me as the one who was to return, bearing the risk of betraying all Turgon's realm to the enemy with one wrong motion. Still I had to think of Glorfindel's casually mentioned wild wolf and wondered if it must seem so the others. My part might be the most complicated, returning without leaving a trace, but it was also a partly unnecessary risk, as I had said. A favour no one really understood how it had come to be bestowed upon me, including myself. Maybe they wondered where I would pose more danger, restless in the city or turned loose in the wild.

None of that truly surfaced, and we went speedily and in peace. Of the seven I found my closest companion for the journey to the Havens in a young elf who had been born in Middle-earth. But his mother was of the Falathrim, and he wished not only to see the sea, but to sail it and maybe cross into the west. The thought made me shiver, both that of ships and that of the west. For the time being, though, the two of us had found a kindred spirit in our delight in the land and the weather. We passed uncounted places where I would have stayed for a while longer, and it was hard every time to let them go and move on with the others. But I did, because I wanted to see what else would come after each place. I thought it was hard, but it was harder even for my younger companion. He all but forgot the sea when we came into the land of willows. We all lingered there longer than perhaps we should have, but finally we saw that the security we felt in that land would neither shield us forever nor slow the time that seemed to pass only outside the reach of the willows. We moved on, but my companion remained behind. I was caught in a painful trap I had not seen coming. Turgon's order was the maxim on this journey, but neither as scout-captain nor as companion could I see myself leaving a comrade behind. We came near to fighting over the matter, but in the end I had to give in to the rest who were straining forward. I was but the errand-boy in this and not one of the sailors. So my friend kept straying in the willow-land, and I moved on with the others. It was not that far to the havens from here, and too soon we reached them. And the sea. The others complained about my silence by that time, but I could not argue. Though I enjoyed the salty sea-wind, the unbounded waters reaching towards the horizon, and the gulls' cries, I firmly closed my ears and mind and heart against the soft mutter of the waves. I watched them lap the shore, sometimes swifter, sometimes lazy and sluggish, and thought I would not want to trust my life to them. Since we had left the Ice, and the half-frozen sea, I had not been at the coast again.

More days passed, and I found time for myself and ways to enjoy what freedom I had. The nature of my task did not make for much talking and closeness _to_ others, but I did not care for that. In the city, I could hardly escape always being in company this way or that, if I did not ride half a day across the plains and into the far mountains – here, I could spend days not talking to anyone. I listened a lot, though, and beside what Cirdan told me frankly, knowing where I came from, I gathered talk and gossip of the seaside. Great news we had heard even in the city, but uncounted details could be filled in here.

The ships were swift in building and my seven companions who were to man them swift in learning sea-craft. I watched sometimes, and spoke a little with them, but more and more I felt driven back from the sea and inland. The ships grew almost daily. When six were finished and lying tall and white in the harbour, the seventh only lacking the mast, someone arrived we had, perforce, given up for lost or else counted on not seeing again. My companion had not left the willow-land of his own volition but literally been caught in mid-stream. He had taken it into his head to build a raft and sail on the Sirion when a great wind had seized him and taken him down to the sea. Now he was here and not in the least fed up with water-ways or daunted by the might of wind and sea. Instead, he wished nothing so much as to be away. He caught up with the learning and previous experiences of his comrade sailors with so much speed that I could only account with his mother's sea-heritage for it. A day came when they were to start, a blue and friendly morning with a high tide. I stood on the quay to bid them farewell, and I shivered in the bright sun. The sea was dazzling, calm and deep blue, but an opaque silver when the rays hit the surface at an angle. Beautiful, the sailors said, the right time for lifting anchor, but I thought it weird and eerie without being able to explain the feeling. With a heavy heart I said good-bye to my erstwhile companion last of them all. He was in high spirits and confident.

"I would say, take care" I said "But it is a futile saying, I suppose. When you cast off from here, only the sea will decide where you go"

"Not completely the sea alone" he said with a smile "I have a small say in the matter, too. Though you are right. I pray neither Ulmo nor Osse will be utterly against us"

I embraced him in farewell "I wonder if the two have any say in _that_ matter. May you find what you seek. And may you find it to your heart's content"

"I have heard so much about the west" he said quietly "I desire nothing so much as to get there. Spring never ends there, they say. And no blight or shadows lies upon it"

"Maybe" I said cautiously "For my part, I prefer to take spring with winter, if in return I am to enjoy it free of governance. And autumn without snow to follow is as bad as spring without summer"

He laughed "You always have dark words, don't you? At least I know you love the land as much as I do, or I would be worried. Maybe you love it more. But I will rather drift on the shadow-waters than to never even have attempted to find the west, be it closed to us or not. Farewell! May you find what makes _your_ heart content"

The return to the city took me longer even than the way to the havens. Alone, I could take the freedom to linger at times when places were just too inviting. Though I constantly weighed the risk of indulging myself against my duty I dearly enjoyed that time. Once more, I had some waybread Cirdan had furnished me with on which I mostly lived. I lit no fire, and did not hunt at all. Instead I gathered the slowly ripening berries and last year's nuts, sometimes mushrooms and roots. This time truly, I thought, I passed like a wild thing, making no sound and leaving no track. Often, I found myself fingering the wild elves' pendant and wondering. I thought of Bearclaw. But I never looked for them.

In all the weeks it took me to travel in this way, slow and secret, I never saw another traveller. I slept seldom, but if I had to, I crept into the best hidden nooks I could find. Those were lonely and often miserable rests. Before, I had missed only Glorfindel and Faire. Now, I found myself also missing soft beds and warm water. Autumn had passed and the first snow wasn't far off when I hastened towards the city finally. The last four days were the most miserable of that entire journey. I crossed hardly any distance, constantly checking if I left traces, if somebody or something was near, seeing uncounted possibilities where a spy might lie in wait for me and I would never notice him. I did not sleep at all, nor rest very much. I crept forward inches at a time, moving in the underbrush as far as possible, circumventing open areas and soft ground. Finally, I waited for nightfall and crossed the last distance to the mouth of the dry river. Absolute blackness closed around me and I froze in fear for a terrible moment. Then my eyes adjusted and slowly I could see at least dim shapes. I crept through the tunnel and found it more horrifying with each step. I was worming my way back into a strangling prison, part of me said. I was returning to shelter, the only home I had, and my lover whose gentle presence had never completely faded from my mind even when I had been furthest away from him, by the sea, said another part. Before I could hesitate and get into serious trouble I was challenged, and the guards' lanterns momentarily blinded me after the pitch darkness.

It was many long years in which slowly word came of foundered ships, or no word at all, and no one of those Turgon had sent did return to the havens. We had given them all up for lost, and as the years passed Turgon's heart darkened. He waited for word, for counsel, or for a message. It was at a time no one expected it anymore that one returned and a message came. The young sailor, last to leave with his ship, had been cast ashore to live and tell of his journey. He brought a human with him, a mortal warrior who carried word from Ulmo himself. He was called Tuor, and the stir his appearance and his message caused was great. But I did not much heed the dark warnings that day and instead hurried to the king's hall to greet my former companion. Neither of us had yet found all that he thought he wished for, but for a while we were all content to stay as and where we were. A shadow of doubt had crept over everything, though, and once more, wariness increased. Scouts and guards were doubled.

My young companion of those past days spoke little of his time at sea, and less of whatever terrors he had met in his long drifting and toiling against the waves. The loss of his ship-mates weighed heavily on him, and for a while he kept his distance even from his old friends who had never left the city. He poured much of his energy into the duty he had taken on to keep his mind busy. Though he would have been entitled to a much higher office he chose instead to act as guard and scout. Somehow he ended up first in Glorfindel's wing, but a little later changed to mine. We became trusted companions in arms. In short time, he rose up through the ranks to become second captain. We fought with our scattered companies when the walls were breached at midsummer. He was keeping our company together when Glorfindel charged the Balrog with nothing but his dagger. He was there when we scrabbled the stones together and built the cairn on the high pass of the Eagles' Cleft. And so he escaped the reeking ruins of Gondolin with me, and we came once more down into Nan Tathren where we had once lost him to the spell of that land. I often felt Calathaura was not a name whose ideal I could ever fulfil. But never once did I doubt the wisdom with which his name had been given. He was called Voronwe.

Chapter Notes:

More than loosely based on Voronwe's account of his journey in "Of Tuor and his coming to Gondolin" in _Unfinished Tales._

"And when Turgon heard of this (the destruction of the Falas and the Havens) he sent again his messengers to Sirion's mouths, and besought the aid of Cirdan the Shipwright. At the bidding of Turgon Cirdan built seven swift ships, and they sailed out into the West; but no tidings of them came ever back to Balar, save of one, and the last" (_The Silmarilion, _"Of the Fifth Battle: Nirnaeth Arnoediad)

7


	9. Chapter 9 Fall of Gondolin

**The Fall of Gondolin**

FA 511, Midsummer

Sunrise. We had taken the fires of war for sunrise. Where had our brains been? Had I not been terrified I would have railed at myself.

The world broke down around me. We knew the lay of city. It helped in so far that we could lead our forces in a semblance of strategy within the winding streets. But the orcs were too many, they were everywhere as if an anthill had been poured out over the city. And then there came the dragons which plucked us from the walls and fried warriors to the pavement with a casual breath. I heard of Ecthelion's fall, of the fire-demon, even as I ran for the king's court. A last stand, a final last stand. If we would all die here, it would be in the king's court.

I had not counted on reaching the yard. I came from the wrong side, and leaped down from the high wall into the court, as much to escape the orcs at my back as to rush into the next wave that branded against the white tower. Glorfindel arrived, having a Valar-sent new force with him. All mine had scattered on the mad flight through the streets to come here. Some of them, led by Voronwe, came in now.

Turgon's warriors opened the tower-gates and poured out, and in a short time the orcs in the yard were killed. For a brief moment, there were only elves in the yard.

The leading captain of tower's warriors pulled off his helm, and I realized it was Turgon himself "You go" he shouted "I command you. Follow my daughter"

We stared around blankly for a moment, realizing why he was ordering us off.

"We swore allegiance, we will not run to leave you to fall with the city" someone cried.

Turgon rounded on him "I command you. My pride brought this on you"

"Come with me" another voice ordered "And come quickly. They have broken the last wall"

Idril, holding her sword in one hand, a helm in the other, stood at the main entrance to the yard. I saw warriors of all houses gathered behind her, as well as unarmed people and children. It was no longer a question of which _warriors_ would die, but that all others would die as well, and sooner and more tormented than those who could fight. And if they were killed, there was no sense for the warriors anymore, no reason to defend a dying, empty city.

Turgon and those of his guard who would stay with him stood on the wide steps of the tower. There was no time to rebel, to change the course, or to cry. We obeyed, because we were given an order by the king himself, even if it was his last order. Idril led us into the oldest part of the city, and into ways I had never seen. Almost immediately, I lost track where we were going. It was a mad run, and over and over, orcs came out of the shadows, dropped from walls like spiders, sent arrows whizzing into the narrow ways.

My lungs burned from the reek, and I could hardly see for my streaming eyes. Sounds all mixed into a continuous crash of utter destruction. We plunged into what seemed a tunnel, rough earthen walls surrounded us. Suddenly we were out in the open, the city looming behind us further than seemed possible. We were in the plains, without shelter or cover but we ran on. There was nothing for it. There came a terrible scream overhead, and one of the winged dragons dropped out of the swirling smoke. For a second that seemed frozen in time I saw the beast overhead, its wings spread wide like a hovering bird's, the sinuous body curling as it veered. Reptile eyes gleamed in the reek, fierce and fiery.

_It is beautiful_, I thought. The dragons wrought the most disastrous damage on city-walls and survivors both, but I never forgot that moment of seeing the dragon overhead and realizing how beautiful a creature it was. And then it opened its mouth. Someone crashed into my back and we rolled on the ash-covered ground, choking. Heat rushed over us, there were screams and a terrible stench of burning flesh that made everyone retch.

"It's gone" Idril's voice carried over the noise and the shouts "Get up, run, ahead to the mountains"

She was in the front, her bright armour gleaming fitfully in the murk. I was bowled over again, but as I rolled, I saw that this time not by another elf.

"Faire!" I rasped, struggling to my feet. She all but dropped to her knees, and I dragged myself on her back. We were at the edge of the fleeing train, and Faire did not need my orders to move alongside them, guarding and herding at the same time. I was glad for that, because I could not think at all. A child stumbled, screaming. Faire dropped back, and I snatched the boy up behind me. The hills had risen up around us.

"Take care" I shouted "Look up"

Instinct more than my belated shout moved the fugitives into a tight knot in the middle of the narrow strip along which we ran. Arrows whizzed out of the darkened hills to the left, striking mostly horses and donkeys. Several went down, and I felt near senseless panic rise inside me. Faire was not armoured, wore neither saddle nor bridle. I twisted on her back, trying to see the next volley coming and thinking to shield her with my body when she sprang aside, bringing us even closer to the hills as she kept to the outside of the group. I wanted desperately to urge her back to the right, but knew I could not. It was my duty to guard them. There was a crush and a roar above. We looked up fearfully, expecting another dragon. Instead, rocks hurtled out of the reek that hung low over our heads. One struck my leg, nearly pulling me off Faire's back. I dug my hands into her mane, blinded by the pain for a moment. I felt her moving aside, and then forward. The child behind whimpered. I twisted to see if he was hurt, but he wasn't.

"I'm alright" I answered the unspoken question as we clung to Faire and a mad run towards the right side and the end of the valley began. Several smaller groups formed according to the speed people could hold, but warriors assigned themselves to each. Faire neared the front when the shout went up in our scattered ranks and the guards carried it on „Raca, raca!"

No, I thought. We had orcs, dragons, balrogs and avalanches. Not wolves as well. A moment later I saw them, dark shapes in the fog, darting towards us.

"Circles" I shouted at the guards behind me "Form circles, swords outside. Riders, try to bowl them over"

Similar orders were given all over the place, but it was too late. The wolves, large as our donkeys, were too fast and too strong. An arrow hit the terrified mule Voronwe was trying to drag along and the poor beast went down braying and kicking. The leading wolf leaped over it and bore down on Voronwe. Panic nearly choked me. Wolves did not move strategically, did not move in a body. Everybody had to see to his own survival. Judging by the screams and shouts in the almost impenetrable fog we failed miserably to defend ourselves anymore. I dropped off Faire's back, shoving the boy forward so he could grab her mane "Hold tight and lean forward" I ordered "And you get him out of here"

I turned with my sword in my hand. My leg hurt abominably, and I could feel blood trickling. At least Faire obeyed.

I saw Voronwe rolling and struggling to his feet just as the wolf, borne by his own momentum, shot over his aim and turned to attack again. Something inside me stirred and came to life roaring. Weapons availed little, but we had words left. The syllables of the spell flamed in my mind, and I screamed them aloud, over and over. The words were taken up by others, but I did not know what was happening. There was no fire, but light, blinding us, but also the wolves. Yelps, growls, the whiz of arrows all mingled, and then silence followed. I shook my head, feeling dizzy.

"Run!" I shouted instinctively "Run for the mountains again!"

We did. I stumbled along until someone caught me and dragged my arm over his shoulder. We had reached the hills, finally.

"Your horse"

Indeed Faire had turned up again. Her coat was bloody and smeared with ash.

"The child?"

°Someone found him° The elf beside me boosted me up, and I swung my injured leg over Faire's back with some effort. She began to climb, stumbling into dells and holes so often I thought she must break her legs and my neck in the bargain. For a short while, we fled unmolested, but then the hoarse cries of the orcs came again, and the wolves howled just a little behind us.

"Over here, here's the valley!" someone shouted, and for once, we turned as one and made for that voice. Anyone still on horseback, archers and spear-bearers pushed to the mouth of the long, flat valley once the unarmed elves and the fighters on foot had passed between us. Had the wolves found us a little further from the valley none of us would have survived. Now, the narrow entrance to the valley was defendable. I saw Voronwe in the chaos, and hope and relief almost made me giddy. The words still shone in my mind as if written with fire. I squinted into the dark fog, trying to see if shapes moved there. Glorfindel suddenly pulled up beside me, leading a small and motley company. He ordered a number of those who held the entrance to follow the rest and replaced the breaches with his own men. We retreated to the end of the narrow entrance at his command.

"I didn't know you could" he wheezed.

I shivered suddenly "Neither did I"

"There they come" he pointed.

I nodded, and at his signal, we charged forward together.

I did not know how we survived that second encounter with the remaining wolves, but we did. Archers had climbed hastily into the rocks of the entrance-tunnel, and added their arrows to our mad and gleaming charge. After that, we all turned tail once more and fled through the valley. It was one of the scouts who had ordered us here, and the valley led us easily far up into the mountains. The scouts took command as they had been trained to, and as the road was too narrow that anyone could fall back or catch up, we fled at the end of the untidy line. Night must have passed, but morning did not come in the smoke-wreathed mountains. We climbed and struggled in a stupor of weariness, up and up a steep and treacherous path.

"Cirith Thoronath" Glorfindel whispered at one point, and then I realized that he was right. We were climbing that way. My heart sank, and a cold dread replaced the empty weariness that only knew the urge to run forward as fast as possible, away from the dread in the valley.

"That is an evil pass"

Without noticing, I had halted. Glorfindel grasped Faire's mane and pulled us forward "What do you mean?"

I shook my head, and then it was too late to answer, because the pace was picked up. For a moment, the road widened and though the part of the way was extremely steep, we used the space to gallop forward and come to the front of the line finally. Idril and Tuor were there, so I dropped back a little, keeping near the middle of the train. My heart hammering, I rode near the sheer drop in the dim light, praying Faire would not stumble. But this was the only thing we could do to keep the line moving and away from the abyss. There were many wounded and a number of children struggling along, and at times, the path was just wide enough for a horse to cross with utmost care. We lost two horses and a donkey there, though I found out only much later, in Nan Tathren.

I could not say how much time passed. We climbed higher and higher, and it was bitter cold. A cruel wind blew, often so hard than we swayed on our feet. A dreadful abyss loomed beside us, and it sometimes felt as if the vast drop sucked our steps towards it. Just when we began to whisper of the end of this evil road, small stones rained down on us, and we heard the harsh voices of orcs. They climbed down from high above. Panic seized me once more. Strung out as we were, they could pick us off at their leisure, and they did.

The wind roared and gathered, and then the orcs screamed as the gales blew their hold from the cliff. So I thought, but then I saw the wings in the gloom and could make out the shrill wails that were eagles' voices and not orc-cries. Even as our hopes rose with that, the reddish glow suddenly in front of us dashed them again. The eagles dived, screamed, and something roared. The stinging scent of singed feather wafted on the cold wind.

"A balrog, a balrog!" as the warning of the wolves had shivered through the ranks before, that wail was taken up now.

I looked around desperately. The abyss. We should jump before that fate caught us.

Glorfindel pushed past Faire and me, pinning me against the wall. I had not realized when he had dropped back again. He had lost his sword, I saw.

"Whatever happens, promise me to lead them _down_"

I stared at him blankly. Eagles and elves wailed, orcs screamed, but the gale snatched the sounds away

"Promise!"

I wished later he had commanded me. Orders could be broken, but I was bound by my given word. He knew well what he was doing. He looked at Faire, and she dropped her head, once, as if bowing. Then he was gone.

"No!" I heard Idril's voice as clear as one of the eagles' screams. There was a rush, and a flare of red. Wings of shadow spread, and it was as if thunder rumbled. Panic and despair nearly drove me senseless. I clawed my way forward, but was jerked back painfully. Faire's teeth left a large bruise on my shoulder as I twisted madly in her grasp. The tiny thread of awareness I shared with my lover thinned and stretched, and then it was gone, as was the red flame and the shadow. Someone screamed, but it was a while until I realized it was me.

Chapter Notes:

According to the Silmarillion the dragons sent against Gondolin were "of the brood of Glaurung", so they would have been wingless. The winged dragons were reserved for the War of Wrath, but I take the freedom to add one or two flying dragons to the city's fall.

5


	10. Chapter 10 Eagles' Cleft

**The Eagles' Cleft**

Gildor's POV

FA 511

"Gildor wake. Please wake"

I could have ignored the insistent voice that valiantly tried to shake me out of the darkness my consciousness clung to, but there was a tiny thread that tugged at my mind. I opened my eyes and tried to shield myself, but the thread was gone as soon as I gave in to its prodding.

"Voronwe" I whispered.

"Yes"

I did not need to ask what had happened. It was only a moment ago it seemed. The connection I had become so used to was gone, as if someone had extinguished a candle in a room I had not been aware had been dark except for that light. I fumbled in that darkness but could find nothing, least of all words.

"The eagles flew down" Voronwe said "They brought his body"

A long night had passed during which no one had managed to wake me. So the eagle had carried him back up. There was a half-finished cairn already, with the endless drop behind it. I could not even see him a last time. So I scrabbled at the stones and shifted them into a finished cairn until my hands bled. I didn't know what I had said, but they left me in peace, most of them. Tyelca helped, and Voronwe and Elemmakil came too, after a while. I could not send _them_ away. They had as much right, maybe more, as I to be here. At one point I was left alone, crouching at the foot of the cairn and wondering why our places had been reversed. I wished they all would just be sensible and _flee, _but they acted as if the demon's fall had saved us completely. Why did they not finally go, go down?

But I should stay here. I had not been there the one moment I should have, and he had been alone. Why did they not _leave_? – Because he had made me promise to lead them. But who could have heard that? No. The stones were cold and dug sharply into my brow as I bowed my head to the cairn. I had a knife. There was the vast abyss just a few steps away. I could simply stop and follow where he had gone-.

I looked up only when there was a rush as of rising wind, and the air was whipped around me. It would be the last straw if we got caught up here by a blizzard. A fat lot of good his death would have been then.

There was no blizzard. The eagle was back. He shifted, picking his claws up so as not to shift the stones we had so laboriously gathered and heaped. Then he stood with his great wings slightly spread, staring down on me.

"Don't"

I had never spoken to a great eagle before. But weariness and grief made me a poor talker, even to so mighty a creature. The desperation inside me had grown cold on waking, and I shook I don't know if with cold or anger.

"Don't what?"

"Jump" the eagle said dryly "I'd be faster anyway"

"You did not catch him"

The eagle took a step towards me. I could have climbed on his back and he would scarcely have felt any weight. But I could feel no fear of him. I found myself wondering if that giant beak of his could not accomplish in a second what I found no courage to do.

"I have no power against a fire-demon"

"No" I agreed "And he paid"

"He made a decision" the eagle pointed out "Wisely, and brave"

"And what will it bring him?" I asked bitterly "Endless waiting in dark halls? Far from your wide blue skies"

"It is not only blue skies that I fly" the eagle returned "Our master has not forgotten you. And neither will his sacrifice go unnoticed" He turned a sharp, gold-coloured eye to the cairn, then cocked his head and looked at me.

"You say" I whispered "Unnoticed by whom? I remember the doom. You fly, but we are here. _Not even the echo of your lamentation_ – those words will not have escaped you?"

I would not cry. Not now, not here, not before this eagle. I turned away, part of me wondering what had killed my reason that I spoke thus to one of Manwe's own birds. The wind was cold and sharp here, stinging like ice. Abruptly it stopped. Something powerful was suddenly very near, nearer than I wanted it. I whipped around, the impulse to run sending my heart into my throat. There was nowhere to run. I was cornered between the cairn, impossible to leap, and the eagle's wing, cupped over and around me. He had stepped around me with no more notice than a soft breeze. The extended wing did not only shield me from the icy wind but also from sight of the others. My injured leg shook painfully in protest at the clumsy turn. I looked up into the eagle's eye, trying to remain upright.

"I am only a messenger, not an interpreter" the eagle said softly "Maybe it will comfort you to know that he will not have lost the world he loved and died for forever"

He ducked his head, twisting around as if to preen himself. For an instant his beak was but a hand's breadth from me. He seized one of the golden feathers that grew on the inside of his wing. Compared to the rest of his feathers these were small, but when he clamped one in the tip of his beak I saw it was as large as giant vulture's wing-feather. It took a long moment staring at the eagle's face close to mine until I realized I was supposed to take the feather. Time seemed frozen. Then I reached out and took it, and the eagle stepped around the cairn towards the edge. With the protection of his wing gone, the wind was back. He glanced back at me once, and then dropped over the edge. His widespread wings caught the wind and he was borne upwards without a single beat of his wings until he banked at the far edge and propelled himself up and away.

What then had the messenger meant in telling me that? I could find no hope in the obscure words, but still I clung to them. The feather was strangely warm in my hands. After indeterminable time of staring at it I knelt by the cairn once more. I drew my knife, but though I longed to cut somewhere else I only cut a thick strand of my hair. I wound it around my hand and felt for the braid with the raven's feather. With a determined motion I cut that off, too. I blinked tears from my eyes and laid the black feather into the slight upward curve of the broad eagle-feather. It fit in neatly there. If I turned it around, only the eagle's feather was visible. I wrapped the two quills with the strand of my own hair. My hands shook, but I managed to knot the ends tightly. I took one of the dead and bleached branches that were all that remained of a pine that appeared to have once stood here and wedged it between the stones of the cairn so it would stand upright. With the braid dangling from the black feather I fastened the two to the branch. It was the way the rhevain marked the places of their dead, but it seemed the only appropriate thing to do for me. I stared at the feathers and hair fluttering in the sharp wind blankly for a while.

I think I was aware that the others called my name. I ignored them without really meaning to, but there was nothing to make me turn. I could have frozen right there, and I would not have minded. Only Faire's whinny shook me out of that state. The sky had darkened. Time had passed. I turned away from cairn and feathers and walked towards her as in a bad dream. Some of the cold terror left when I touched her, feeling her warm solidity and breathing her scent. The confrontation with the eagle had consumed all my strength it seemed. My leg gave out, and I sank down beside Faire, holding on to her foreleg to keep upright. The shoulder she had bitten into thrummed painfully. I closed my eyes, but a little later came the command to move. I took it up without wanting, without feeling. Because I had promised.

I realized I could not mount Faire.

"My lady" I whispered, and she dropped down on one foreleg cautiously among the sharp rocks, bringing her back into manageable reach. I pulled myself up painfully, and she fell into step with the train.


	11. Chapter 11 Hurondil

**Hurondil**

Hurondil's POV

First Age 511

Gondolin was destroyed.

Turgon was dead.

Maeglin was dead.

My city was gone, my king and my captain and friend with her.

And I was running, now, as I had been since – days? Moons?

It was a matter of time until they would catch up with me. Either a dragon, or one of the nameless creatures sent to Gondolin. Or worse, Orcs.

The sun was vanishing, the woods grew dim, and an empty stillness fell, only broken by the sound of my own ragged breathing. I was crashing through the wild now, no longer having the strength to run light and soundless.

Uncountable nights and days had passed. It had always been the same. The night was full of deceptions, sights and sounds that I could not understand.

_Please let it not be Orcs._

Any creature would be better than Orcs.

Anything that did not delight in playing with its prey.

Anything that killed swiftly.

They would catch me, surely. I was leaving a trail of crushed vegetation and plain footsteps. And I did not know where I was going. This was foreign land. Far, far from the Echoriath.

Brambles caught at me and I stumbled, falling to my knees and adding thorns to the thousand small and less small injuries I had gathered.

Pain coursed through me, and breathing had become agony after passing through the reek of burning Gondolin. I blinked, trying to clear my vision.

Darkness.

I had never felt afraid in a forest before. Now, after years and years in the shelter of Gondolin and its mountains, the wild was full of ghosts, real and imagined.

No place to go, except to go on. I was so hungry I no longer felt it even as an ache. Up to now, there had been water, enough water. Berries, roots, I could not recall all that I had tried to eat. Tried.

Sounds whispered around me, and I could not make out their meaning or their source.

If I did not go on now, I knew I would never rise again.

Dawn.

They had not caught me. A thousand times I had imagined I heard them, or maybe had heard them truly. Had hidden, waited for whispers to fade, shadows to cease.

Sleep.

Water.

Nothing of these, not yet. At times, I fell down and when I got up, much time had passed. I did not remember dreaming. I did not remember sleeping at all. I simply came back to awareness and ran on.

I stood on a slope. Where had the mountains come from? I could not say what lands these were. No trails, no signs of living creatures. It was silent. It was cold.

The mountains were of dark rock. Gondolin's mountains had been grey, white in the sun. Here they were sullen. Or did they only appear so?

I passed a blood-smeared hand over my eyes, feeling grit and dried sweat.

They would find me. By scent, if not by sight.

At nightfall I was at the foot of the mountains, staring up a steep and forbidding cliff. Scrawny trees clung to its crumbling sides. On the top, forest grew.

Unattainable.

I would have to find a way up.

Height offered protection.

Always.

It grew colder still.

White towers, brilliant in the sunlight –

Dragons, flame, black fetid smoke –

Screams of fighters, screams of the dying -

Another dreadful night, alone with memories and pain.

All were dead.

I stumbled along the cliff's foot until it smoothed. But there were mountains around me now. From where had I come? Which slope must I follow on?

The ground still rose steeply, leaf-covered.

The trees whispered.

An owl called.

It did not matter. _Why did I run any longer? For what?_

Still I climbed upwards. Under the leaves now, rocks.

Could dry leaves and rocks be slippery?

I kept loosing my footing.

The sword I still clutched became an incredible burden.

I had no sheath for it. This was not my blade. It had belonged to Maeglin.

My captain.

My friend.

Curse it.

Lomion. He had been a friend.

And yet – he had never spoken of it – never uttered a single word about it – neither about the king's sister, nor Morgoth, nor the treachery.

In all our time together, not a single word.

The sword had lain where it had fallen, at the edge of the high wall. Its owner had fallen even lower, cast down by the mortal warrior. Tuor.

I stared at the blade. I had not been there.

And if, what would I have done? Would I have defended my friend against the mortal?

Like those who had lain fallen around him before he faced the Man alone?

What could I have done?

Without betraying the city a second time?

The strange design.

Thorns. Who chose thorns for a blade decoration?

Maeglin had always been strange. But Maeglin had not forged this blade. It was older.

I realized I was cowering on the sloping ground, the sword rammed into the ground, wedged into the loose rocks. I was clinging to it to stay upright.

Night. Where had the day gone? I had to go further.

When next I came back to myself they had found me.

Great shaggy wolves. A whole pack of them.

_Please end it quickly_.

I could not get up. I tried.

The wolves came closer, sniffing, milling.

I stared at them.

I had never seen wolves – live wolves – so close before. Real wolves. Not the monstrous abominations of Morgoth. I had seen those, enough to last me eternity. Wild wolves. But they, too, were so huge. I saw gleaming fangs in the night. They were ghostly silent.

Or were they shadows?

Why did they not attack?

I reached for the sword, closed my hand on the hilt. Even that movement hurt.

I could not lift the blade, could not rise.

I felt the hot breath on my skin as the leading beast came closer. I could smell its fur.

The wolf beside me seemed brown, then black, shadowy, then vanished.

I felt myself loosing grip on my consciousness again, fading into grey thick mist.

Something, someone, I could not say, was touching me.

It hurt.

Perhaps they tried to see if they could extract some fun of me still?

Voices.

Slowly I separated my mind from the mist and the red haze of pain.

_Why voices?_

Speaking roughly, hissing.

_Orcs._

Why was I alive?

Where were the wolves?

_No. _

_The voices were too soft. For Orcs._

My thoughts were running away before I could sort them out.

_For Orcs, the voices were too soft, too low pitched._

I was lying on grass. Smelled blood, sweat, and forest.

Wet leaves, decay, mushrooms.

The sky above me was netted with branches. I felt cold, and yet incredibly hot.

Something was different. I pried my eyes open.

And gasped painfully.

A wolf lay beside me. Huge, shaggy, red.

It turned amber eyes on me at the sound.

For a second I thought they had begun gnawing me while I still lived.

Or my fёa was watching, waiting, before fading into the halls of the dead.

But I was still feeling pain. And my eyes were open.

The wolf looked away.

A rustle, somewhere outside my limited vision.

I tried to turn my head, and went dizzy. Trying to swallow, my throat constricted and a coughing spasm seized me.

Someone grabbed me from behind and pulled me upright. When the coughing eased, water trickled over my mouth. Breathlessly, I tried to drink.

Someone was behind me, holding me up, another crouched before me holding a folded leaf. Water dripped from it.

A man.

I knew because the – creature - was naked. He held the leaf vessel out and offered me water again. Thirst overruled any other perception for a moment.

The wolf was still there.

Beside the man.

_It can't be a wolf then. _

_A dog. _

_Yes, a dog. _

_It must be a dog._

When the man took the empty leaf vessel away the beast rose, looming taller than the crouching man beside whom it stood, brushing his arm with its fur.

Its gaze chilled me. Those were not the eyes of a dog, however wild.

_A wolf then. _

It thrust its huge, rust-coloured head towards me and drew a rough tongue across the open wounds on my chest.

Horrified, I tried to cry out and shove the beast away, but the one holding me caught my arms and held them, pinning me easily.

The man in front of me made a forbidding gesture, laying a hand on the wolf's head. He held out his own arm. Blinking, still feeling the wolf's tongue on my skin, I saw a fresh gaping wound on the man's arm. The man raised it to his face and mimicked licking it, then showed me another healed scar on his hand, patting it, then the wolf.

After a long moment of blankly staring at the stranger I could dimly guess the man was trying to tell me that letting a wolf lick the wounds made them heal. Remembering the wolves looking for carrion on the battlefield I could have said something quite different to that, but I was much too afraid of these people.

The naked man walked away, leaving me still pinned by the one behind me. I tried to crane my head to see the other, then became aware of three more people sitting a good distance away on the floor.

They were all naked. Two of them were women. They all had dark or dark brown hair, and were painted like mortal barbarians. I could not see what they were doing.

The wolf moved over me. Its hot tongue brushed over a particularly deep wound and I gasped with pain. The one holding me eased his tight grip a little and nudged the wolf's head aside. He released me, moving back so that I could look at him.

He had long reddish hair. The same colour as the wolf's fur.

Another male.

Ashamed, I looked away.

The man I had seen first returned with more water and helped me drink again.

The red-haired one said something, pointing at the deep wound where he had kept the wolf back. The first man inspected it without touching, leaning on the wolf that had by now finished his ministrations. He answered in the same strange language.

Vaguely, I thought the pain had indeed lessened.

Or was I imagining it?

I could not understand a single word, could not even make out where one word began and another ended. I had never before heard such a language.

In many sounds, it almost resembled the harsh Orc speech. New fear rose in me. Could they be in league with Orcs? I tried to sit up further, looking down, seeking my sword, remembering the blade.

To my surprise it lay right beside me.

Why did they not take it away?

Maybe they did not know what it was.

None of them bore any weapon.

_Or any garment, for that matter._

The first man made a small gesture and I turned back to him. When I looked at him he reached out slowly, a questioning look on his face. His hand was empty, so I did not draw back. He pushed my dirty and blood-caked hair back, then repeated the gesture on himself.

I blinked in shock.

The stranger was an Elf.

I knew I gaped, and wondered if they would think it an insult.

These – people – looked like no, absolutely no, Elves I had ever seen or heard tell of. For all their appearance I had taken them for humans, possibly dark ones, wood-men that ran with wolves. The stranger watched me, amber eyes burning into me. I had the feeling the man wanted to tell me something, but I could get no hold on it.

_They could have no evil intentions._

_They had left me with my blade._

_Or could they be planning something?_

My thoughts were churning. The strange Elf said something to his companion again. He looked at me and held out his hand, palm upward, then placed it on my chest. There was an urgent look in his eyes.

Uncertainly, I repeated the gesture, motion by motion. My hands shook.

The strange Elf nodded slowly, seeming satisfied. He pointed towards the small group, making a shoving gesture.

I nodded, not sure if he meant we should go to them.

The two men rose and gently pulled me to my feet. I swayed with dizziness and they supported me as I stumbled between them. Only then I realized that I was a whole head taller than they. The other three shifted, making a space in their circle.

I had my next shock.

Between them they had not only a small heap of wild apples and nuts but also a dead rabbit. It was already skinned, and they used an edged stone and their fingers to remove pieces of meat from it.

To eat them raw.

I swallowed. Dizziness threatened to give way to nausea which was not entirely caused by pain.

I sat – or rather slumped down – nevertheless. I had no choice anyway.

They all stared curiously, even a little apprehensively. The Elf who was obviously their speaker turned to me again. He repeated the motion of placing his hand on his chest, but now he made a fist and he uttered a single word. When I looked at him helplessly he repeated gesture and word.

"K'ashi"

The red-haired man pointed at the speaker and said the same word again.

Suddenly I understood. A name. It had to be the speaker's name. I tried to repeat it, but failed the strange clicking sound at the beginning. The speaker – K'ashi – smiled anyway, nodding. He slowly pointed at the others of the group. Tamó the one beside him, Onak'a the brownhaired woman, Nek'asha the second woman, and Te-nosh'k the third man.

Ashi, the speaker said, turning and pointing at the red wolf. I could not say if that was the name of the beast or a general term for wolf. Or if it meant tame beast or pet or whatever one would call such a beast.

When I said my own name they had as much difficulty with the pronunciation as I had had with theirs. A little laughter ensued.

Then K'ashi offered me the cutting stone.

I swallowed dryly. I shook my head and hoped my declining the offer would not offend them.

"No, thank you" I added, feeling stupid not saying something, knowing also they did not understand me.

K'ashi gave the stone to Tamó, who cut himself a strip of meat, and offered me an apple instead, gesturing to the pile of nuts as well.

The apple I accepted gratefully. The strange Elves exchanged a few soft words while eating. For all that their eating tools were limited to a sharp stone and their fingers they were – and remained – remarkably clean. I wondered absently how they had killed the rabbit. Or had the wolf perhaps hunted it for them?

The meal was finished quickly and in silence, then a brief discussion arose between the Elves. I wished desperately to know what it was about. The red wolf appeared as if he had been summoned. One of the women – Nek'asha – held the remaining bones of the rabbit out to him. The wolf took them into his fangs, gently, almost daintily.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment.

How long had I been unconscious?

Where and when had they found me? Who were they?

Where would they take me? Why had they helped me?

What interest could they have in one fugitive who was near death anyway when they found him?

There was little chance any of them knew anything about my people. We did not even speak a common language.

Suddenly they all rose. K'ashi and Tamó helped me stand, and K'ashi went to fetch my sword. He handed it to me, holding it by the hilt and supporting the blade on his forearm so as not to touch the naked steel. Puzzled, I took it. The sword seemed heavy, making me wonder how I had ever been able to wield it with force.

The others disappeared into the forest.

Literally disappeared. They melted into the sparse undergrowth and became invisible. I was left with K'ashi, standing in the middle of an unknown forest and acutely aware of the smaller Elf's nakedness, my own weakened state and torn and stinking leggings. Looking at K'ashi's calloused feet and thinking of the sharp stones beneath the soft moss of the forest floor I thanked the Valar I still had my boots.

K'ashi offered me a supporting arm and led me a little distance into the forest. From somewhere, the red wolf ghosted up and went at K'ashi's side until we reached a dell, hidden by brushes that grew thick around it.

The short walk was enough to make me feel like collapsing. I had no idea what K'ashi wanted to do. No sign of the others. The Elf – whatever kindred he belonged to – waited for me to settle and recover a bit. He scratched the ears of the wolf as the animal settled beside him. Then he touched both hands to the sides of his head and held them out towards my head, mimicking the same gesture from a little distance. He moved closer, made a questioning sound.

Instinctively, I flinched from the alien touch I expected. K'ashi retreated immediately. He looked at me quizzically, turned away as if not knowing what to do. After a moment he repeated the gesture he had made before.

What could he want? My mind raced. I realized my right hand still clutched the sword. With a conscious movement I released the blade. I would not find out if I kept K'ashi away. So I nodded.

K'ashi took a seat opposite me, crossing his legs comfortably. As before, he laid one hand on my chest. A moment later I knew what he had meant with his enigmatic gesture, as K'ashi's consciousness brushed against my own.

He did nothing more, just waiting somewhere at the edge of my mind, waiting for me to complete the contact.

After the first shock I realized that this was the way – we could not talk one language, but mind-speech could work with images and concepts alone. I was too weary to guard my mind effectively, but I did not care for it. I reached out a tentative mental hand and felt K'ashi taking it. Abruptly, our minds met, and for a moment we both reeled with shock. Obviously neither of us was a trained mind-speaker. I was at two places at once – in my own body and mind, but feeling the strange Elf's fast heartbeat like my own, looking at myself with K'ashi's eyes. And something else's.

Utter strangeness, images I could not comprehend in any way – no reason, nothing I knew – fighting panic I tried to shield without breaking the contact completely. I did not manage, but K'ashi seemed to twist his mind and the link became less intense, the feeling of being watched twice vanished.

I still could feel the other Elf's shock, which told me K'ashi's experience in touching my mind had been just as strange and unpleasant for him. K'ashi did not bother with polite introductions. He used mind-speech bluntly and direct, planting the images right inside my mind. His mind-speech seemed reversed, sounded strange.

'my people no harm mean to you'

Something else struck me. K'ashi was speaking in that strange language of his, even as the words seemed to form themselves into images and concepts in my mind. So that explained the curious order.

'two risings-of-the-sun ago we found you at foot of the mountain'

'Why did you help me? Who are you?' I asked. It was hard to concentrate on forming images rather than words. Had I been told about this way of sending I would have been tempted to call it primitive. But being faced with it I realized it was all but that.

K'ashi shook his head.

'no time yet for this – Orcs are here. this is Orcs land. we must flee, only came here for good hunting. two choices you have – be strong enough, and go with us? then not return to your people – we not will suffer discovery. or go back to your people? then alone you must go, and swift'

K'ashi hesitated, licking his lips 'I not clan leader. we not take with us strangers. but you weak – fight with Orcs alone no good will be. with us protection you will have – only think, you not go back' K'ashi fell silent after the final very determined sounding word and the stream of sending faded.

I forced my reeling mind into a reply, blocking out any doubts that threatened to overwhelm me.

Who was left, if anyone? I did not know.

And who would I be, going back? One of the House of the Mole, as we had sometimes been mocked.

Dirt diggers, tunnelers, mountain maggots.

Maeglin had betrayed a whole city, but I also felt betrayed. Hurt. And I had been loyal to Maeglin. That would not be making for further friends.

But what would I have done in Maeglin's place? What would anyone else have done?

'My city has been destroyed – most of my people and my friends are dead now – I would go with you – but who are you? Where will we go? Where have the others gone? You speak of a clan – what clan?'

K'ashi licked his lips. 'you strange. but you say yes, you go with us – you one of us will become. you say yes, I may tell you what we are – where. you say no – I not reveal us, we secret, clan and homeland'

No going back. I tried to think straight. Hard, when the other's words were so twisted.

Alone, I would be doomed. Did I fear death so much?

A life with these…savages? What could be in there for me?

I wanted to live. Perhaps I could learn.

'I will go with you'

K'ashi looked at me. I had no idea what he was doing, but for a moment the world narrowed to the strange amber-coloured eyes and I could not have jerked my gaze away if I had wanted. With a slight disorientation the feeling vanished, together with the sensation of restraint.

K'ashi spoke again 'we go to - ' I got an image of high brownish mountains, thick forest with lush undergrowth that reached down to the sea, of bare landscapes high above the timberline 'we go swift – danger not far. one of us always with you – the others go furred'

K'ashi took my wrist with his free hand, giving weight to his next softly hissing words 'you not must fear us. we like – them - are' He pointed to the red wolf. "Ashi'kha" he said. 'turning wolf. look'

There were remembered scenes. I knew they were memories and not produced images because they were keyed to a presence not my own yet sent I experienced them as my own. That world tilted, my line of vision blurred and…sank. There were senses I had never had, while others I had always had faded. I was in another body – no – my own had twisted, I was crouching and standing upright was…not possible.

K'ashi caught the flow, and I realized I was still sitting calmly in the tiny dell, the other Elf's palm pressing against my collarbone.

'ashi'kha – turns wolf' K'ashi repeated. The sensation changed and intensified. This time K'ashi was not sending experienced memories, but remembered views, and he was sharing far more with me than before. A wolf pack running. I knew these were my people. Another memory. A reddish wolf loped towards me, slowed, crouched, and – turned into Tamó.

"Ashi'kha" K'ashi stated again. He withdrew the connection skilfully and lowered his hand.

'come, haste now. gather your strength'

He got to his feet with a fluid motion and extended his hands. I grasped them dizzily and K'ashi pulled me up once more. He picked up the sword and gave it to me.

'walk with me now. others gone before, furred'

We walked. The red wolf paced easily before us, doubling back and turning again. After a while two wolves appeared, seeming to dissolve themselves out of a piece of thick undergrowth. I stopped painfully, shaken out of my concentration on each new step, every single one of which sent a jolt of agony through my body. I was already leaning on K'ashi, who had to stop as well when I paused.

'not fear' he pointed at the wolves "Onak'a. Te-nosh'k" 'they scout. listen. they ask, you go with us now. if so, they say, run we must soon. orcs not looking for wolves, but smelling for unfurred' K'ashi said. I did not think I could walk far, let alone run for any distance. I was so weary even wolves talking to K'ashi did not bother me.

I had better not think at all.

Chapter Notes:

The Cirith Thoronath lay southwest in the Echoriath. Hurondil must have escaped to the northeast and finally into the Iron Mountains where he ran into the Ashi'kha. Don't ask me how he got through the attackers coming from the north.

The sword of Maeglin which Hurondil took with him is Anguirel. "Tuor fought with Maeglin on the walls, and cast him far out" (_The Silmarillion, _"Of Tuor and the Fall of Gondolin") – I take the freedom to assume that since Maeglin stole Anguirel from Eöl he will have worn the sword afterwards, and it is nowhere said what became of it.

Mind-speech: a handy device borrowed from both Mr. Spock and Mercedes Lackey's _Valdemar-_novels. The Quendi will have a similar skill, called Osanwë-centa"Communication of Thought" (_Morgoth's Ring_).

K'ashi: "lead-wolf"

Onak'a: "huntress"

Onakir: "nightchaser"

Te-nosh'k: "wolf-wants-to-fly" Ritual Code

Tamo: "lean wolf" Ritual Code

Nek'asha: "brown wolf"

ashi: "furred"

Ashi'kha: "furred-unfurred"/"turns furred"

10


	12. Chapter 12 K'ashi

**K'ashi**

K'ashi's POV

First Age 511 - 512

I was at a loss.

This had been meant as a hunting trip. Far, yes. Into foreign land, yes. Orcs' _land_, yes, but furred ones were seldom harried by orcs. They crossed and left each other alone, usually. Coming to _territory_, stepping over borders, that was different. Then we would fight, then we would kill each other. But this was not orcs _territory_ – orcs were only crossing here themselves. This was khai'toh land. We looked out for that. Nets, slings, arrows. We were not sighted, and if, we were furred at that time.

I led this pack, but decisions for the clan, decisions concerning strangers, outlanders, were not mine to make on my own. I was here, though, I was leader now, so I had to decide.

The pack had found the stranger lying unconscious and unguarded. He was of the Bright Ones, he wore clothing like the Bright Ones and bore a long knife like the fire bearers did. Like the orcs also did.

The pack had left furred, carrying no weapons and no supplies.

When we found the stranger, we discussed briefly what to do. Not our concern. We did not meddle with the Bright Ones, no. Pack rule said, leave the outsider be. The Bright Ones always fought, in all their lands. When they came looking for this one, Te-nosh'k said, and found him with the pack, the Bright Ones might hunt the pack. They had done so before, without the Furred taking their people.

But the clan was also like the Bright Ones, we could wear the same bodies, Unfurred. Pack rule for furred ones was different from pack rule for Unfurred. We should help. At least try to, for we had nothing with us to heal. The shaman was not with us and none here dared try and mind-heal a stranger of the Bright Ones. I had spoken to him like that, but it felt dangerous. _He_ felt dangerous.

They were powerful, and different.

Yet as Unfurred the pack could not stay long in orcs land. We would be smelled out, and no difference was there between us then and the Bright Ones – not in Orc eyes.

I had decided now, and for several days we stayed with the stranger, unfurred. He had not awoken, and we carried water for him from a near brook, using folded leaves to hold it. It was cold, unfurred, and he shivered constantly. We were far, far still from our home. Too far to call for help, to send furred ones.

I had made another decision, not thinking what limits I might overstep, and when the man awoke, I put him the choice, to be left now that he could somehow – hopefully – guard himself again, or to come with the pack into the clan, but then remain.

The stranger had taken the second choice, which I thought was favourable – he had no chance on his own. The stranger had also given us his true name. Perhaps the Bright Ones did not know about use-names, clan-names, but this one had revealed the one that held him.

The Bright Ones had brought fire and war with them, but the clan lived now where the Bright Ones and their cousins seldom went. Far east, by the great water, where we had always been. North, too, and sometimes we went far like this. Maybe there were other places where we could stay as well. Maybe there were better places. But so far, we had found none.

Furred ones travelled far, and furred scouts also, and they spoke of the fights, and the huge shelters the Bright Ones lived in. This one, whose name was so difficult to speak, had come from such a fight and such a huge shelter of stone, now burning. I did not know stone could burn, but this stone shelter did. The stranger smelled of fire, and he was wounded and very weak.

The way home would be long for him. I knew we would have to take care of him very much. The Bright Ones could not go furred, and without fire, they often died of cold nights. They wrapped themselves in clothes always, but this one's were torn from the fight. The pack would have to sleep close to keep him warm. Maybe we would have to go unfurred to carry him, maybe we would have to fight when orcs found us unfurred.

But I had decided, and the pack would follow.

It was night again when the Bright One could go no further. I had practiced his name, and now could speak it easily. "Hurondil!" I called, once, twice, but got no response. Tamó came later, unfurred, and took my place to guard. I felt much better furred, out here. Together with the red wolf who had come with us I lay down beside the stranger to warm him, and slept for a while. Nek'asha, her sister and Te-nosh'k kept watch. In the deep night, we went on. Hurondil did not wake again after Tamó made him get up and drink some more.

The Bright Ones did not eat meat without fire, so we had only nuts and fruit to give him. I furred and decided to make haste even more. We took turns going unfurred and carrying Hurondil. He was taller than all of us. It was hard to carry him.

Then orcs found us. Te–nosh'k who was good with a spear took the long knife and waited beside Hurondil while the rest of the pack went furred and tried to drive the orcs away. One Onak'a killed, and the others became wise and let themselves be swerved from their walking course. They did not discover Hurondil.

We stayed that night where we were. I was suddenly frightened. The Bright One was waking a little, but not as he should. He had drunk a little, the past nights, but never eaten. He had not eaten long before we found him. All his bones stuck out. He would die if he neither ate nor drank now.

I was no shaman. I was angry. He fought to live. We still had one way to try. I had not tried yet because the Bright Ones did not eat meat bloody. It was the way we kept very sick ones alive, and little cubs when they would not eat. I sent Nek'asha to look for sharp stone. She went furred. When she returned, she held flint in her fangs. I took it, split it with the rocks that lay around here, made it thin and sharp. I tried to get Hurondil awake, managed it, a little. I cut my wrist and forced him to drink. Maybe it was good he was not awake. He would have refused much more strongly. But he drank, finally.

Te-nosh'k confronted me when he found out. He was angry, and I got angry, too - I nearly fought with him over what I did. He backed up, and we travelled on. I continued, and Hurondil survived.

When we had come very close to our home the moon had waned. Nek'asha ran before us to fetch help, and a healer.

We rested at a river, and I woke Hurondil by mind-touch.

The red had kept close to him, licking his wounds. But he seemed too weak to heal. I looked at the gash in my arm which had already become almost invisible. Even the cuts on my wrists which I had to reopen each night had already begun to close. I was extremely relieved when Nek'asha returned with the shaman.

Onakir did not ask any questions about the Bright One before starting his shaman business. Tamó was called to assist, and I drifted closer, curiously, but also to keep watch. When Onakir was finished and ordered Tamó and Te-nosh'k to carry Hurondil to the clan's place, he kept me back.

"You have brought him here. He's not of the clan. Will you be ash'kh'nor for him, K'ashi?"

"I-" I broke off. _Ash'kh'nor_ was serious business. If Hurondil for some reason turned out to be a danger, it would be my duty to deal with that. I would also be responsible for his integration into the clan.

"I am not _ash'kh'nor_. I have never taught or guarded" I objected.

Onakir shook his head. "He is grown, not a child. Who else could take that position rightly? You have given him your blood"

"He would have died otherwise"

"You bound yourself"

I stared at Onakir. That then was why Te-nosh'k had been so angry. He knew more, that way.

"He said he chose us. I did not want him to die. He struggled to live"

Onakir nodded calmly "Then see he brings the clan no harm and all will be well"

I shrugged and accepted the obvious "I will, then"

After all, I had decided. My business, now.

Wolf clan had a new camp. We learned that on our return, when we did not walk on east but south. It lay between the mountains where we spent the winters and the great water where we usually went in summer. But scouts had gone far this sun-course, and found a sheltered valley near the edge of the deep forest. A stream ran through it, and vast numbers of small animals lived there. Nothing unfurred had come here for very, very long. Here, we could have woven mats as shelter against the frequent rains, when we were unfurred. And we would not eat as much fish and sea-prey as usual, both of which suited me very well. Catching fish, scouring the sea-edge for shells, gathering whatever could be caught without swimming out into the treacherous great water was not my favourite way of hunting. And it took time. Lots of time, which I would not have now. I supposed even the great hunts of autumn would fall flat for me this year. It was only a few nights since we had returned to the clan. Without prey, but with Hurondil. I was supposed to be _ashk'nor_, but for the present, I was less concerned with any trouble _Khai'toh_ ways might have with or cause wolf clan than with Hurondil's continued survival. Onakir had healed his wounds, but he was very slow to recover. He was desperate. But it did not make him angry, it made him sad. I spent all my time with him, prying him awake at regular intervals to make him drink water, and trying to feed him when he was awake enough to chew something. He chewed things, now, and drank water. I wondered what he remembered. Sometimes when I woke him, he was frightened. I did not know if of dreams, or of me.

On the fourth day, an enormous thunderstorm went down over the valley. As usual, that did not do much to lessen the heat, only increased the dampness of the forest. Winter was near, but properly cool days had suddenly turned into late summer again. Water spurted over the woven mats wolf clan had fastened between the bushes, and the others had either furred or huddled under the mats. I cowered under my own shelter, watching over Hurondil, who came awake slowly as thunder literally shook the ground. Thunder road. It was a good sign that he woke, I thought. It was not good to sleep when shin'a'sha was as close as this.

I reached out tentatively "Huron'dil" I still had difficulty speaking that name, into silence. Hurondil's strange, bright grey eyes fixed on me. I returned the gaze uncomfortably, unable to read the expression. He turned his head with an effort and looked out into the downpour longingly. I seized on that.

"_E-pelor_?" I asked "_H'te e-pelor_?" Out? Do you want to go out?

Hurondil stared at me helplessly. I took his hands and reached for his mind, something I had done so often over the past days that it was no longer uncomfortable. Onakir had shown me what to do to speak properly that way, to do it without danger to either. At least so we could communicate with each other. Hurondil was able to understand what I meant when I spoke then, and, I guessed, once he was better, he would learn our words. I repeated the question now, and saw Hurondil's eyes light up. So I pulled his arm over my shoulder and helped him out from under the shelter. I had not yet risked taking him to the stream. And as the camp was new, wolf clan had made no bark vessels yet to carry more than a few sips of water. We needed special trees for that, and so far we had not found suitable ones. All of us were well, and when we were thirsty, we _went_ down _to_ the water. The lack of those trees was a real drawback of this site, if we wanted to stay here often. We could not carry bark vessels from one camp to the next, we had to make them on the spot.

Rain drove down hard and spattered from the leaves, drenching us in a few moments. Hurondil straightened gingerly, taking some of his weight from my shoulder, but could not stand alone yet. He closed his eyes and turned his face up to the rain with relief. The pouring rain washed most of the dried blood and sweat off him and out of his hair. I glanced at the sagging mat after a while. A little shifting it, and the water that spattered to the ground around it collected into a stream that shot over the edge. I helped Hurondil over and sat him down under the small jet, crouching beside him to untangle and wash the long strands. Thunder roared, and water spattered over us both. I found Hurondil staring at me in wonder, and cocked my head in puzzlement. Hurondil said something and gestured. He used our connection to mind-speak much more tentatively than I.

'It doesn't wash off' he said finally, mimicking a rubbing motion with his hands.

I laughed, suddenly understanding "_Akhai_" I held out my arm for Hurondil to examine the tattooed lines 'I would be really worried if that washed off'

'I…have…never seen…that' He repeated the word. I nodded and smiled. Thunder growled overhead. _Shin'a'sha_. He was not going to die anymore. We were on _shin'a'sha_ now, and he was trying to learn our words. After that, he closed his eyes and let me finish washing him. The rain did not stop. I even got the last clods of blood out of his hair. He was exhausted, and fell asleep quickly when I had helped him back under the mat.

I had wanted to know what the Bright Ones called _akhai_, but he had never seen something like that. They had fire. They did not eat their meat bloody. They could not fur. It would be hard, I thought, watching him sleep, to find things we had in common.

Several days after that, Hurondil was well enough that I could leave him alone for some while. After he had woken that day in the thunderstorm, he had got better swiftly. He woke by himself, ate and drank more, and asked for the names of the things he was given. I had first thought only of teaching him our words, but then realized I had better learn his as well.

I think he was glad to be on his own for some times. Seeing how strange he seemed to me, I could imagine how he must feel with us. There were furred ones around, and I knew _khai'toh_ did not like them. Hurondil was terrified of them, so I kept them away, mostly. They were curious, though, and did not have my clanmates' restraint in waiting for the stranger to get better before coming to him. _They_ sneaked furtive looks, but the furred ones needed to smell, lick, touch. I gave up finally, and tried to make Hurondil understand that they would never hurt him, as he obviously still feared.

It was only then that Khai'la came to me. We had intended to be nok'uni this summer, but then the scouting had come in between. The three seasons of leaves were the time for that. It was pack-business, and neither of us had questioned its precedence over such matters. Khai'la would not scout with us, but she was usually in charge of the hunts for the clan. Mostly, each hunted small things for himself, but regular hunts as a pack ensured greater prey and a share for everyone. Khai'la was a better hunter than I, but that did not mean she was patient outside stalking prey. I had assumed she was gone already on the great hunts. Also, I would have expected her to choose another _nok'uni_ and not to waste one sun-course for cub-raising waiting for me to return. We were attracted enough to be not only _nok'uni_ but _aran'cha_ as well, but we had no intention bonding exclusively with one another. She would have had every reason and right to choose someone else while I was unavailable. Khai'ashi, I would have thought, as they too, liked each other very much. But she hadn't, and I felt warmly pleased for that.

She was unfurred now, but probably only because I still was, having just left Hurondil to roast his meat. I did not like being there then, so near the fire. She glanced over at him curiously, as we sat under a beech at the other end of the camp. This was the gathering place, but deserted as it was bright day.

"How do you say his name?" she asked, and when I said "Hurondil" she stumbled over the word as much as I had done in the beginning.

"I cannot say that. Will you give him a name in our words, K'ashi?"

"That depends if he will take one" I said carefully "And before you tell me as ashk'nor I should do so, I do not know enough of him to give a good name"

Khai'la grunted an agreement. She took my arm, looking at the fading scars "You took risks"

"I didn't think it can go wrong"

"No" She frowned "It can"

"You waited for me?"

Another agreeing grunt "Now that you don't need to spend your time guarding, do you have a lair for the days?"

"Are you offering me one?"

She grinned now "One sun-course more or less matters not, does it?"

"To me, no"

"A pity it is winter now, soon"

"Well, we can share a lair without sharing the furs. If you would wait until the _oka'sanok_" I said.

"I would"

Very well. These were her decisions. She had to bear the cub, so of course she would decide. I was her first mate, too. I had even less right to argue this than I was inclined to challenge pack-rule. What mattered much more was having a companion for the season of _khai-khanshe imaire_. Which, I realized was another problem. As _ashk'nor_ I was responsible for Hurondil. He could not fur. We would have a cave for the snow-season, he could safely make a fire there. But wood might be short one time or other, and I realized I would have to produce furs for him. See that he stayed warm. I found my loyalties divided sooner than I had expected. _Ashk'nor_ overruled everything else.

"You see" Khai'la said after a while "Three of us might also share a lair. Two keep him warm easier than one"

I looked at her thoughtfully "I imagine his people think differently of this. Come with me and we tell him that now. I have the feeling he might need some while to digest this"

He did. As curious as any wolf Khai'la went with me that night and we, or rather I since we had to use mind-speech, broached the topic to Hurondil. The first thing I had found out was that his people had a _very_ different sort of pack-law. _Khai'toh_ did not talk about such matters as wolf clan did, it seemed. Hurondil coloured red when I explained what we intended to do, and why Khai'la was with me now. He often coloured, and it was easy to make him do that. I had not intended it this time, so I could not laugh. I asked the word for what he did, which was 'blush', and then found out that his people took only one mate in all their life, and were bound to each other forever, even beyond the death of one mate. And when the time was bad, when there was trouble and fighting – which was nearly always – they did not have cubs at all. Khai'la, brisk about everything, was determined to learn Hurondil's words as well, but for now channelled her questions and objections though me.

"But your pack will die out if you never have cubs!"

Hurondil coloured deeper and explained that there had been many more of his people in the one stone-shelter from which he had fled than there were to all of wolf clan here. They would not 'die out' so soon. He could, however, understand our way of doing things, though I could tell he did not like it. How little, it was no telling. He kept those things well hidden from me. But in the end, he agreed that we three would share our winter-lair.

Between Khai'la, Onakir and me Hurondil learned our words very quickly. He could not stick them together into very long speeches, and mostly knew words that meant things that existed, or things that were done, but he soon knew enough to speak to us with ease. What he left out or said wrongly, we could add in for ourselves. We learned his words in our turn, and knowing soon how difficult his words were to say, no one of wolf clan ever objected to the way he spoke.

The winter was hard for him. He helped with things as best as he could, even went with hunters and scouts when I also came, but lots of his time were spent near the small fire he hugged in the far end of our winter cave. He had been nearer the entrance first, to let the smoke escape, but then our cubs and the furred ones were afraid to enter the cave. When he removed to the far end, there was more smoke, but the light was better hidden, and after a while we realized that there was more warmth. Gradually, I think, we became friends with that fire of his, though only a few of us came nearer the flames than four strides.

When the season of _khai'shin'akh_ came, Hurondil lived well with us. He had been shocked beyond, to our eyes, reason when two young cubs had died in midwinter. It took some explaining until he understood that for us, this was a rather good year. In fact, a very good year. There was warmth, there was prey, and we still found roots and earth-mushrooms under the snow. Three cubs of five lived through the winter.

By the arrival of _khai'khanshe kelare_ he could not yet speak the simple code, but talk to and understand the others who could not mind-speak him. I had learned enough of his words so by now we could insert words of his into mine or the other way round if we lacked the right ones.

He watched us like a wolf watches the pack next to his territory, and observed who counted who as _nok'uni, aran'cha _or_ machasan_, and what that meant for the way cubs were raised. The winter lairs broke up when the nights were no longer filled with frost. Khai'la and I stayed with Hurondil until _khai'osha_ though, when the bright winds already whirled pollen through the mountain-air and the first wolf cubs were born. This, too, was the season when our cubs were born. It was good hunting now, with the forests and mountains full of stupid young ones, and having no cubs of our own to mind the three of us went with the hunters.

There was mounting tension in the clan by the time _khai'shin'akh_ arrived. It was the hot season, dark leaves, berries, and the first signs of autumn. The _oka'sanok_ was danced. This was mating time now, and everyone with a partner by now occupied their own, separate lairs. Hurondil blushed repeatedly, and appeared very much relieved to be yet unconcerned by the courting. Khai'la and I had our own lair, too, since some time before Oka'sanok, and suffered a good deal of teasing from Hurondil when we were with him.

Cubs were born in spring. Malar and I had had a cub together some sun-courses back, but we had only been _nok'uni_, and she had raised the cub with her _aran'cha_. If it lived, Khai'la and I would raise ours together, which was quite different. The winter seemed long to me, and I consciously kept back sometimes when Khai'la went hunting, realizing I was in danger of following her everywhere. Hurondil was merciless in his jibes when I admitted that, but unexpectedly helpful. He kept me from worrying. He still learned the simple code. I still puzzled with his words. We used the winter for that, somehow.

On a night in spring Khai'la disappeared. I had assumed she would, and was not surprised, but that did not keep me from worrying now. Females sometimes died when they gave birth. Hardly ever we could do anything against that. This was Khai'la's first cub. But then, this was the way the furred ones' females did it. They retreated into their burrow and snarled at everyone who disturbed them. We had no burrows, so our females chose suitable places in the forest. Some of them did, some stayed with the clan. There was no rule. Khai'la, brisk and solitary by nature, would go off, I knew that. Again, this was her work, and her decision. She would not have gone had she expected to need help. I held on to that, waiting alone after a day of near driving Hurondil mad.

It was night when she came to our place. Silently, purposefully, placing a small bundle of furs in my arms without sitting down. I was so startled I almost dropped it, then I got to my feet gingerly. She grinned, and I grinned back. Relief and elation made me feel a bit dizzy. I held her hands with the bundle between us, and we howled, triumphantly. The furred ones joined in first, then the rest of our clan. They came running, softly, curiously, the younger cubs milling around us, standing on tip-toe to get a better look. Again, the clan had grown. The first loss of last winter had been replaced. With every cub we hoped it would live through the snow-season, and grow. And with every cub there was the knowledge that it might not. Cold, an attack at unawares, lack of prey, all that might kill the very young. A cub was not considered truly out of danger until it could fur, could live a cold night on its own, knew how to catch at least a mouse with fangs. Until it could walk, could stay with the furred ones alone for a while, and until it no longer needed help every day it was a very, very dangerous thing to get attached deeply. Hurondil had taken some time to accept that, too. A cub was given everything, and all the love of its parents, but if it died, the parents could not afford as deep a mourning as such an instance would have caused in Hurondil's world. It simply did not happen.

I did not think much about that, though I knew it, on this night, holding Khai'la's hands with the cub between us. Spring time, with the great hunting season before us, and we were making a racket with every new birth, howling defiantly before we hid in silence again.

Chapter Notes:

Ashi'kha language does not distinguish between members of the clan and other beings, esp. wolves which are K'ashi's reference-point here. They have no expressions for 'man', 'woman' or 'child'; _asha _means both an unfurred female and a she-wolf, _nok'un_ means both pup and child.

_Ash'kh'nor_: a kind of guarantor (meaning both teacher, guardian & protector, implying responsibility for the actions of the "protégé")

_Nok'uni_: mate chosen for offspring

_Machasan_: soulmate

_Aran'cha_: mate chosen out of desire

_oka'sanok_: the Mating Dance, usually held in late summer.

_khai-khanshe imaire_: "bound-light-falling" (December, January, February)

_khai'shin'akh_: "bright-storm-dark" (June, July, August)

_khai'osha: _"bright wind" (April, May)

_khai'khanshe kelare: _"bound-light-rising" (March, April)

_khai'toh (pl. khai'tohr): _Bright One (s), Ashi'kha title for the Eldar

_Khai'ashi_: day-wolf

_Malar_: guard

_Khai'la: _day-star

_Akhai_: "lines, pattern", tattoos

_Shina'a'sha: _"shadow-of-lightning"

_Shin'a'sha: _"path-of-thunder": an Ashi'kha ritual of both celebrating life and mourning. They have a knack for ambiguous concepts (see _RDCTS_ "Why the Wind howls", "Only the Hawk remembers death")

9


	13. Chapter 13 The WillowLand

**The Willow-Land**

Gildor's POV

Nan Tathren, autumn FA 511

We came down from the mountains as a long line of ragged, stinking and half-dead fugitives. The heat, the flame and the shadow of the fire-demon had vanished, and yet I had ended up on Faire's back. I did not belong here. I should have remained up there, too, beside the cairn. On the pass. But here I was, somewhere at the end of the line, keeping it moving, downward and downward, away from the smoking ruin that was Gondolin.

Night had passed again, and a pale, misty morning came, here between the mountains. Down below was a sea of green and of water, hidden most of the time under thick, white fumes. Downward was the only way to go.

We had lost many horses crossing the unguarded plain towards the mountains. Even in the fog and reek arrows had found us, picking the horses out, preventing us from sending at least a few of us ahead on horseback, to the comparative safety of the mountains. Then, almost all the remaining ones had foundered in the narrow, secret pathway, or afterwards climbing up to the Cirith Thoronath. Still Faire was here, carrying me, herding people, horses and donkeys. Those had fared better in the rocky lands. How Faire had managed, I didn't know either. She had climbed alone, picking her way between the rocks and the crags. Her legs were all bloody now. On the downward march she had gone to her knees several times, almost throwing me over her head, but still she walked.

We were not followed. It was almost absurd. With the demon's fall, any pursuers seemed indeed to have lost heart for a while. Or they were sure of their victory. What did we know what lurked here, further down, or in the valley? But it was the only way to go.

Faire carried me there, and those they had placed on her back sometime earlier. There were two mute, frightened children in front of me, and another clung behind me. We were nearing the green-blue sea at the bottom, in the valley, slowly. Why am I riding, I wondered when my brain engaged itself again after a while. There were enough wounded who should have been riding. Though the children were small, four people were a heavy load for Faire. The train halted, and I picked up the call automatically, calling for a brief halt before descending the last few miles. Someone came and took the children. I got off, too, and then I knew why I had been riding. Stones had fallen on our line, sometime during our flight along the narrow pass. Some had struck me, and my left leg was swollen and caked with blood. It stubbornly refused to carry me. I sat on the ground beside Faire because I could not stand and presently crawled around her to check her hooves and legs. There was no water and nothing to eat, but a lot of coughing. All our throats were raw from the smoke and the fumes we had breathed. Otherwise there was silence. Even the children no longer cried. After a while we went on. It was slow business, distributing baggage, remounting, trying to carry who could not walk, stringing out into a line again to descend further. It was broad day, and I realized what I had taken for fumes had been thick mist – it thinned and vanished slowly, until when we reached the flats we could see the land before and around us under bright sunshine. But the light and the distance betrayed us. It was miles and miles to go, and several days passed until we left the mountains, found a way out of the last straggling foothills and on to evener ground. Even, but barren, hard and rocky, with only thin soil. Scraggly mountain-trees grew here, and the land was pathless still, except for wide swashes were avalanches had gone downward and flattened everything. It was always hard and dangerous to cross those deadfalls. Loose rock, dead trees, caverns that opened suddenly underfoot and trapped the walker. Still, here was no shortage of wood, and we did not freeze. But we lived miserable, scavenging and gathering, and always hungry. Whenever I stared at the sky, there were no eagles. They seemed to have been a dream of the pass. My memory fails me mercilessly of those days and nights. It was all a mire of cold despite summer, hunger and pain.

At one point, we came to a great river. We had passed along it, rested beside it, drunk from it for a while until I realized what was different. This was the Sirion. We made camp in the dark nights beside the roaring river. We slept despite the sound, and we were not attacked. Though we set guards, it was the river we trusted in now as we followed it on and on towards the sea. But we were endless miles yet from the coast. We passed through dense, dark green forests, never letting the river out of our sight. Sometimes, it was impossible to follow the bank, and marshes, steep rocks or lesser rivers flowing into the great across our path forced us to swerve away from the Sirion. Those were always frightening miles. Unguarded on both sides, we could only hasten on and forge a way back to the river as soon as the land allowed. And then we came to the falls. We had heard a great roaring the whole day, but had only been able to guess the distance. The land dropped away suddenly, and the river plunged into the deep. Southwards, we saw the lower lands under thin haze, green and the Sirion flowing on broad and swift. Once more, we scrambled miserably to find a way down the endless line of rocks that formed the Andram. But then the rocky slopes flattened out entirely and we stood on even ground, and the wall rose behind us. It seemed like a screen before the past. The weary miles of climbing and trudging disappeared behind that screen. Together with the river we plunged right into willows, it seemed. There were days of walking through grass and increasingly higher reeds, but these, too, faded quickly into the willow-land. The trees were all sizes and shapes, lining the uncounted small and broader streams and pools. The ground became squashy, grasses and reeds grew waist-high, and there were no paths. The great river was all around us then, spreading into fingered pools, lakes and brooks. Without command we halted and stood silent, staring across the green, watery country. Willows. Their smell, their voices, their colour were everywhere. There had been no willows in Gondolin. There was multitude of sounds, here, after the hissing wind of the mountains and the silence of the late summer forests. Insects and birds were all around us, and birds that remained invisible. Frogs.

There had been frogs in the great pool in the court, right under the two trees, much to the irritation of the wardens. A vain war, trying to catch the small, high-voiced frogs. We had laughed then, whenever we were quietly asked to _please try and get rid of the frogs_ againBut these here were large and dark green or brown, fat frogs. They drifted about lazily, looking at us patiently and unimpressed.

Faire had walked into the pool with me on her back. The water stung the wounded leg. I could not get off her here, and so I waited, looking into the water. Big frogs. I had been good catching the small ones. We had never killed them. Of course not. Frog-duty we had called the assignment, grinning. It included marching down into the plain at day's end and emptying a bucket full of frogs into the streams in the meadows. They always came back to the fountain in the court. Without thinking I reached down, making a grab for one of the big frogs here. I need not have bothered for quickness. I could scoop it up, large, cold and squashy, bulging its sacks out in half-hearted irritation. I glanced behind me, and met Tyelca's gaze. Frog-duty. He, too, remembered, and he did not laugh. I wanted to, thinking how silly I must look, on a horse half immersed in water, holding a fat, dangling frog in one hand. I set it down into the water and it dived, then drifted to the surface again, the eyes sticking out of the water. Faire had drunk her fill and carried me back to the bank where I literally dropped off her back. I stumbled to the water to drink as well, and felt her standing guard behind me, like a white impassable wall. Long, long ago I had been here already. But I could not remember really now. Gradually, there was some talk, but it passed me by with as much significance as the frogs' talk had for me. One thing, one name was here, in this strange feeling of uselessness. The realization drifted to the surface of my mind as the frog had done a moment ago, in the pond. Thinking of frogs. I felt dizzy. There was only one thing I could do, one place I could go – where I wanted to be. One direction that opened out of this mindless chaos, one last hope. Not the sea, the west, as some began to say.

Bearclaw. The rhevain. I clutched the pendant at my throat, and thanked Ulmo, then Orome that I had developed the habit to never take it off. Together with my knives and my sword this was the only thing I had brought out of Gondolin. Bearclaw. If he still lived. I had felt like a hawk bound to return to the fist after the Nirnaeth, but now, there was no fist anymore. No one to whom I was bound, by my honour, my loyalty or my love. I had deserted Finrod. I would not have had deserted Turgon but for his command. Now, if there was one place worth going, it was to find Bearclaw.

What would he have said, thinking of frogs?

Probably that you could eat them.

I would have gone right now had I been able to walk more than four steps.

That, a look at Faire, and obligation held me back. We had to find a place, a safe place, we had to find shelter and food. I was still a guard of the city. And what remained of it. When I had done all that I could here, I was free to go. So when Tyelca came over to me, I asked him to find a few who could ride and walk and have a look at this land. I had to ask him, too, to help me up on Faire's back again.

There was a place in the middle of what had looked like trackless swamp. There were paths, deer-paths, and we used them. The streams were shallow, and the deeper ones had fords. Deer-fords, too, but fords all the same. This was a country of birds and small beasts. We found no track of bear or wolf or mountain-cat, and neither a sign of orcs. There were crows, though and ravens, and they flew black and croaking, circling us as we passed their sleeping-places and startled them into flight. We looked up, seeing them black against the sky, hearing the harsh calls. Carrion-eaters. It was not a good sight.

And still, what I thought of was the morning in the summer-heat, long ago, pledging a forbidden troth with a black feather. They knew now, since he had run shouting towards the demon and driven it to the edge. Since we had had taken leave of each other as lovers. They knew now what we had been, and said nothing, and it did not bother me.

This was as good as place as any. And the croaking calls were of something alive at least. But no one wanted to stay, and we moved on, plodding like water-oxen until we came to a large dry place, hemmed in by deeper streams, circled all about by willows. Enormous willows, yellowing in the late summer, with high reeds below them. Here there were no crows, only the little piping birds that stayed always hidden. We were starved, and I wondered if we would eat those tiny feather-balls or grill frogs. We were like cage-birds suddenly expected to hunt. Some, I realized, did not even know this land, did not know its name. Gondolin had been all, all their world. I had cherished the maps that there were, maps that showed the world beyond the walls. Even had I not, I had passed through here, on another time. A mission of hope. This was called Nan Tathren, the land of the willows. It had been aptly named. And here we were, and I cut strips of willow in the hope to build a trap, to catch some deer. I ran away, trying to get away from the others, their soft talk, their small fires, and stumbled through the swamps and the streams, setting traps and looking for dead wood fit for lighting a fire.

I found some, and at evening looked at my traps with Tyelca. I hated trapping. It was a mean, dirty way of getting food. I despised myself for it, and once they were roasted, I did not touch the geese and the other beast that we took out of the traps. No one would have eaten that animal, that huge rat-like beast with its webbed feet, but they were starved, and it was eaten. So were all the animals we caught in the days that followed, until summer waned and the nights grew colder. Winter would be miserable season in this land of marsh and water. They wanted to leave soon, go further south, go to the coast. I knew I would not go with them. I just waited for the right time.

Then they gathered. Fires, and food, and songs. After all these weeks, it was time to put something into words, to break that silence among the willows that had held us all in thrall. I went trapping again. I gathered wood. And I extricated myself in silence when they gathered. I went to what had become called the border-stream. A waist-deep, sluggish river under willows, with deep green water. It had been my place until now, my sleeping place, and my place to guard. The borders we fondly imagined were still guarded by us usefully. We had nothing yet, except roughly tanned hides. Brain and piss. I had kept the skin of a dark, almost black deer we had caught once. Because no one else wanted to claim it. Black birds, black deer, it was all spooky. The children had got the rat-beast furs. These were thick and dense and warm. Once the hairs had dried. When I had taken the first animals out of my trap, it had been limp and sodden, and had looked miserable. Dried and tanned, the fur was marvellous, and looked it. My respect for the water-rats had risen quite a lot since I had first seen one alive. I had been hunting, but not shot this one. It was trailed by two young. So I had watched them for a while. They lived here. It was their land. We could have used some of their wisdom to live better here, too.

These had been strange weeks. Half the time I was caught in the past, the other half I lived in the future. Aside from that, I functioned as hunter, as guard. I kept away from the others during my free time. Unspeakable regret oozed over into a wild desire to get away from everyone here. Disgusted, I picked the sodden rats out of the traps, and then thought how disgusting they would have thought pale, naked skin. I had, I thought, better decide which side I was on. But I couldn't.

I pushed the hanging willow-branches out of my way "Faire, can we go?"

She was almost invisible where she stood. She replied nothing, only gave a soft snort. I had lost armour and her gear and generally everything in the sack of the city. So now I rolled up the black deer-skin, and swung it over my shoulder with a string of rawhide as handle. In some eyes, and partly in mine also, I did everything wrong. No mourning, no gratefulness for having been spared. I did not even pay the due respects to my lover's requiem. Instead, I sneaked off on the eve of the great feast.

Maybe some thought that, maybe others knew better – I knew better.

I had said my farewells to those who needed or wanted to hear them. I had asked Tuor's leave formally, to release me from duty. I was not chickening out. Faire squelched after me as I made as straight a line towards the mountains as I could. No way I was going to the coast. I hoped to get somewhere travelling along the mountains' feet, maybe finding another pass across, maybe finding dark elves before I walked into traps that had developed while we had hidden. Traps, I was very conscious, I would walk into as the rats had done into mine, open-eyed and completely unaware. I did not leave bitter thoughts but probably lots of misunderstandings behind me. And that only drove me faster.

Once I had left the willows, the land fell barren. It was so sudden a sensation that I stopped. I looked around, at the forest, the scraggly trees, the fallen leaves, the dark brownness of everything under the starless sky. After the constant chirping of birds and insects day and night this constant silence was deep and forbidding. This was wilderness. Without paths, without fields, without buildings. This was no longer guarded by the great river and its ancient power. I felt caught in the fear, the silence. Faire came up beside me and snorted, a short, loud sound in the strange quiet. I looked at her, startled, angry. She glared back.

'Forget. You forget. This is not _wrong_'

It took me a while to realize what she meant. Gondolin had been _tamed_. There had been sound, life, colour – as we wanted it. This was perfectly normal forest. Scraggly, maybe, because the soil was thin, the weather harsh, but it was otherwise unblighted. I closed my eyes and leaned against her warm, solid shoulder for a while. There were tiny sounds here. Under the leaves, in the crowns of the trees, the rustle of wind in the bare branches. No golden cage anymore. A weight seemed to fall off me. I could be attacked here, right away, but I was free. I was free. The trees and beasts and streams here ran their own way. There were no walls for protection but no walls to make a cage any longer either. I was free.

It was a terrible freedom. My king, my city and my lover were gone. There was nothing more.

"Yes" I said "I forgot. I forgot a lot, it seems"

We walked for three days, sleeping little. We climbed the long wall again. That was strange. The endless forbidding line of hills was a border, a screen. Was I right to cross it again, back into something I had thought was the past? But if Bearclaw was where he should be, I had to go this way. Determined, I set off, and Faire followed. Alone, it was not hard finding a way up and across. I found the Sirion again. I followed it upstream, retracing part of our march. My leg still hurt sometimes, and I was forced to ride. Only when I saw pockmarked mud where deer had come to drink at a pool I realized that this was a wiser course than walking. There were wild horses, after all. Faire's tracks alone might not stick out so much as mine. We skirted the marshes of Sirion to the west, crossed the Guarded Plain one night in great haste, and hid in the forested heath around Amon Rudh for another day. We came to the forest of Brethil, and then I realized I was in trouble. I had no map with me, and I had come back dangerously near to Gondolin. So far, the supplies I had taken with me had lasted and I had not needed to stop and hunt. Inside the forest, we were careful, but we did not hasten now, and Faire foraged while walking and when I rested. She had lived well in the willow-land, full of dark grass and tender sprouts. The plain had put her to it harder, but for now she added bark, the ends of twigs, and a last few green leaves to her diet. When we came upon islands of grass within the trees we stopped and she shaved them short. Then, as we followed the Teiglin westwards, my supplies ran out. I had a rough bow of willow-wood, and a few arrows, the best I had managed with the help of Cúarna the fletcher. The aim went slightly off to the left, and the arrows did not steer true either. I lost two in my first attempt to kill a small deer, luckily those without a steel-tip. There was a colony of rabbits. I spent a miserable night in waiting, and dawn saw me with two rabbits spitted and roasting over a small blaze. I was so grateful having made some catch with my miserable equipment that I thanked Orome for this luck, then doubted my words, and then glanced at Faire. She, who had been born in his stables, was here with me, and I doubted the righteousness of my thanks? It was all too weird. But I still feared my fire was going to bring trouble. I had lit it under a huge pine with overhanging branches. As a result, I could only afford a tiny blaze or I would have singed the lowest ones.

After that meal, I doused the fire and sat in darkness, fingering Bearclaw's pendant. I had to get into those lands where it was valid, where the directions it gave could be applied. Hithlum, Mithrim, somewhere there. Dark, empty lands. Sindar should be there. That was our latest news. It was near three-hundred years old. If they were still there, I would have to ask for help. But we had to cross these mountains, and I dreaded it. Crossing meant passes, and the last pass I remembered haunted my nightmares. And the real danger was orcs, and the nameless dangers that this land held now, after years and years I had not been here. Middle-earth could have been an utterly foreign place and I would not have had more disadvantages, I thought glumly. A city-elf indeed.

I was saved from doubts the night we came to the old road and the crossings, sneaked across and scuttled like rats into the trees again. We walked on to put distance between us and the forsaken road, but then I saw signs of elves. Avari, as far as I could judge, but that was just as well. If they balked, I thought pridelessly, I would beg for their company. I had nothing to trade except that, but I still used the call Bearclaw had taught me long ago. That way I at least announced my presence, and an intention that was not enmity, I hoped. In the dark, I found myself hesitant, as if half-blind in the unfamiliar forest. They came on me sooner than I had expected, and I never knew from where until I was challenged. In an Avarin dialect I could not begin to understand, so I just stood there and held my hands up to show they were empty. Faire had an advantage by her nose, and said 'Left', so I turned that way. They were clad in dark brown and black and came like shadows out of the night under the trees.

"I wish to trade" I said for lack of anything else to say, in the only Avarin words I knew. They glanced at me, at Faire, then at each other. To my relief they lowered their bows, but I could not understand what they said to each other. One of them took a step forward then, deftly keeping in shadow so I could not see his face. When he spoke, his voice was a soft, hoarse hiss, but he used Sindarin. He sounded amused "You have nothing to trade, except your horse, and I doubt that is a bargain we would dare. Start the deal with your name and business"

The universal challenge in unusual words. I was annoyed by their shadow-playing.

"My name is Gildor, I come from the land of willows in the valleys further southeast, and I am looking for a way across the mountains into the lands beyond which I know. I am a stranger here and intend no trespassing. I saw the signs that this is your land"

"Then you know how to read them?"

"I know what I was taught – a little. I know your folk trade with the rhevain – I look for one of their chiefs who is my friend, Bearclaw. If he still lives"

The other gave a soft hiss which I did not know was either irritation or understanding. He spoke to the others, maybe translating.

The hissing one retreated and the others, two, I realized, only two, left their shadows.

"I am Anawi and this is Gilyaga" one of them said in Sindarin, haltingly "There is smoke, and fighting, to the east. There was. A great burning. Did you know that?" Trade-Sindarin, I thought. It showed. I did not give a damn. They knew more Sindarin than I did rhevain and avarin put together.

He knew more than he said. I looked into his face, trying to read the guarded features "It was on midsummer. I came from there" I said "Gondolin. The city was betrayed, and sacked. We fled to Nan Tathren. Now I seek Bearclaw. Do you know him? Does he live?"

My tongue was running away with me – I was suddenly desperate to hear of the rhevain. Despite the hedging they had started out with giving me their names in return. I did not have to fear immediate enmity, so far I was informed.

"Mato" the speaker said, making a gesture that might have indicated scars on his cheeks "'Bear' I understand. We speak rhevain – that is his name, then. The one with the scars. Hawk clan. Him? He lives"

I had used the Sindarin translation of Bearclaw. Of course, I had not thought of that, that he had given me that. His group had always spoken Sindarin with me – but their names among themselves might have been rhevain.

"Hawk clan" I finally thought of his pendant and held it out to the Avar who had named himself Anawi. He looked at it, but did not take it.

"He gave you?"

I nodded. Anawi registered the meaning. Such a pendant was the closest the rhevain could give away to account for something like 'clan-mate'.

"Come with us then now, you and your horse. We can tell you the way. Or you come with us all the way – but we go different way. But quick now"

There was something furtive in the way they moved. I glanced around. The hissing one had vanished.

"Siskano is scout. It is not safe, here. You are brave, alone. Or foolish" Gilyaga glanced at me.

I was not sure if he had meant it as an insult or was only clumsy with the phrasing. In any case, I answered in good faith "I have lived a long time in the city. It may be both, but I have no choice if I want to find him before the winter. I saw no one, and was not seen, I think. Up to now. Are we followed? I made a fire some time ago"

Gilyaga shook his head "Not followed, no. Not yet. Fire is safe still. But things do not follow, where we go. They jump. Ambush. – We heard your call. This is fringe of our place. Not that safe, really"

In silence, we reached a non-descript clearing some time after midnight. We were deep in the forest now, going northeast. Siskano, reappeared and reported softly, in a hoarse hiss. Then he made a fire, quickly, kneeling beside the ring of stones and coaxing the small flames. Soon it burned brightly. He had his back to me. I was only half looking at him, but vaguely astonished how effortless he managed it. The other two took some bread and dried meat out of their large packs and set it out. I declined, saying I had had my remaining rabbit this morning, but Anawi shook his head.

"Trade, you said, but guest you are. Mato we know, we trade, too, with him. We hunt, tomorrow. Help then. Now eat"

We watched each other curiously as we ate. Siskano sat back from coaxing his fire and took a chunk of bread as well, pushing his hood back to eat. I caught sight of his face as he sat opposite me, and involuntarily dropped my gaze. Feeling foolish and angry, I overrode my startled embarrassment quickly and met his eyes squarely. The left side of his face was scarred, and so was his hand. Siskano raised his left arm briefly as of to shield his eyes, and I saw that his lower arm was scarred also.

"Forest-fire" he hissed "One of the trees split apart and I got buried under the half coming my way. Breathed a lot of it, too. So I speak this way"

I nodded uncomfortably, embarrassed for having stared, and relieved that I had because that was the way considered right, as Bearclaw had said. If you had objections or questions, out with it. Trading with rhevain or Avari was no ritual, and they did not enjoy polite phrases or small-talk. Neither covertness.

"Siskano means…snake?" I asked.

He laughed softly "Blaze, first of all. But snake, too. Gilyaga there thought it funny"

"You are…traders, then?" I asked "With the rhevain?"

"Rhevain, yes. But Men, mostly. You see, we make baskets. That is what we trade for mainly. If we hunt well, for that, too. Then, small things. Stones, carvings. The farmers and woodmen have no steel to trade. But furs and meat they take. The hunters also trade for arrowheads of bone or flint, often. At times, we can trade for charms. But they are costly, kind of, and few will afford it. Also, we have learned to be careful. What we call charms, many call magic, and fear it. Some call it sorcery and prosecute it"

The damaged voice obviously did not keep Siskano from talking. Also, he was giving me information I guessed I desperately needed. Gondolin had been completely self-sufficient. I had no idea who could trade with whom, when, and for what. Basically, I had no idea, I realized, of these lands I had plunged into headlong. That these Avari had come on me so sudden and unnoticed should have told me. I brought my mind back to what Siskano had said. The words magic and sorcery got my hackles up, after this midsummer.

"What do you mean? Sorcery?" I asked "How can you trade in 'charms'?"

Siskano hesitated "Things we do…they often call charms. Some healing, calming beasts they have trouble with, telling them why one field might carry crops while the beans in their garden rots – it's really only knowing. What we ourselves would call magic to them then, is sorcery in their eyes"

I nodded carefully "How do you plan to get there? Where is _there_? I mean, you only said you know where Bearclaw is"

Anawi looked up "We go to…how do your people call it…Dor Dinen, yes? The land between the rivers Aros and…Esgalduin? That is where we think Hawk clan will be soon. Maybe now, even. For winter, they are always there. That is where we trade with them. But we often go north and then east, to come through the fens into Dorthonion. There is a place where Aros starts, and Hawk clan usually comes there. But it is nearly winter. We cannot do that now. This time, we would go to the northern edge of this wood and then through Dimbar by an old road. I do not know its name…" He glanced at the others, at me.

"Iant Iaur" Gilyaga supplied "Part of it. We call it _szetacan_, though"

I did not know what _szetacan_ was, but my mind pieced together what Anawi had said. To follow the Iant Iaur and the old road through Dimbar and on… "That will take us…through Nan Dungortheb"

Chapter notes:

Cúarna – (Q) "kingly bow"

Tyelca – (Q) "swift"

Anawi – (Av) "tree-shadow"

Gilyaga – (Av) "bright morning"

Siskano – (Av) "snake", "blaze"

Mato – (rhev) "bear"

Szetacan – (Av) "ever-dark"

9


	14. Chapter 14 The SpiderLand

**The Spider-Land**

Gildor's POV

FA 511

You did not _cross_ Nan Dungortheb. You did not enter at all, and if you did, you never left. Briefly, I thought they were making fun of me. Siskano shook his head, once "We crossed before. It is hard, but we can do it. That is why this was useful" he gestured vaguely at himself "Fire's my friend. With fire, you get through the valley"

No. I wondered if my desire to find Bearclaw could not be calmed for a winter. Better spend it with the Avari than to die in the unknown horrors of the dreadful valley and never find him. For a moment, I buried my head in my hands. Maybe I should try and pass through Doriath…Fat chance. They had not even let the king's own sister enter.

I knew I goggled at them. They grinned. Gilyaga made a temporizing gesture "We cross that way, yes. But only because we have Siskano. And only when we need to very much. Will you come?"

The way through the fens was long, arduous, and at the moment, full of danger. So they said, and I believed them. Also, it was not a way for a horse. But _szetacan_, Nan Dungortheb, the Valley of Death, the land of darkness, shadows and monsters, the land where everything lurked that had got shunted into the corridor of darkness by the expanding Girdle and mountains of Gorgoroth on the other side – that was madness. Pure and simple. I thought, but did not say so. Again, I weighed the madness-content against my desire to get to Bearclaw. And the Avari's certainty of finding him when we emerged from the forests. If we emerged?

Faire remained silent. My desire won out. _With fire you get through the valley_. I glanced at Siskano's calm, scarred face "You are perfectly confident of what you are doing?"

Siskano laughed and did not answer.

"Of what we are doing, yes. Of what will happen, no" Anawi grinned, too "We do not underestimate that way" he added earnestly after a moment "It is dangerous. You should ride, and shut out what you see or hear. We know that land leads your people astray. And _we_ rely on Siskano"

I did not ask further. With them, I had the best chance I would get this year. Travelling in their company we came within two days to the edges of the land they called Everdark. It was strange. There was a quiet here that was not natural. I thought that, and when I observed it, they agreed. It was not my senses blunted from years and years in the safety of a hidden city that betrayed me this time. Even though it was broad day, the sun never seemed to rise. There was a darkness over everything, like an invisible mist, a grey tint. I looked for colour, but there was only the greyish brown of the rocks, and the dark browns of a late autumn forest. The leaves on the ground were brown, too, none red or gold. Some still clung to the trees, and they were so dark they were nearly black. I looked at them one time, and realized they were not dead leaves, but a strange version of evergreen. I then understood part of the Avarin name for this place. And this was only the edge of the land.

When we had crossed the bridge, a crumbly-looking structure of massive stones under which the river passed dark and deep, we rested for that night. There was no fire, and two at a time kept watch. We were uneasy, mostly silent, and in the dark morning we prepared to start quickly. Gilyaga had braided leather-thongs last night which they would also trade. He had given one length to me. I had not yet decided what to do with them. It was a long thing, and I hesitated cutting it up to use as better binding for my bedroll or similar things. But as Gilyaga said, it was always better to have them. As I stood rubbing Faire's head that morning she said °Use them as halter° This was the first time in days that Faire spoke to me. I blinked "What?" The Avari were by now used to hearing me talk to my horse. Her ears were flat to her skull, and had been in that position of discontent all night, coming to think of it.

°Heard me° she said curtly, stamping a back hoof °You ride, you use halter. Here°

She was frightened. That, more than the unsettling stillness and darkness of this region, frightened me.

°You not know what I know° she added, unintentionally cryptic. Some things concerning the horse-world were impossible to understand even for me. She referred to perceptions, not knowledge, that I could tell. And horse-instinct told her to flee. The others were getting ready. I took the leather-tong and knotted it into a simple halter. It was not long enough for reins, and only sufficed for a single line I could hold. I had walked all the past days, but now as we went deeper and deeper into the forest I was glad to ride. To no longer feel the ground under my own feet. It was midday, but dark as if early dusk. The sky could not be seen through the high, intertwined branches. Naked and leaved, they wove a chaotic net that cut off most of the light, and it was hard to see before us for any distance. The trees were close together, and their trunks became like a solid, grey-brown wall around us.

Siskano had prepared torches. Dry sticks of wood smeared with a black, sticky substance he promised would burn for a long while. We had travelled without light the past days, but they said they never could cross this land on foot without fire.

Fire. Siskano. It came down to that. He went in front now, his hood thrown back, and we followed in single-file behind, silent but for the rustle of dead, brown-black leaves as we went. Gilyaga and Anawi often glanced aside, but they too relied on Siskano's guidance completely. Or rather, they knew the direction, but Siskano picked the way. I had expected we would use the old road, but we did not. Instead, we moved parallel to its line, along a course only Siskano seemed to see clearly. Occasionally someone pointed out a peculiar twisted tree or a furtive squirrel, but most of our attention was on going forward. There were a few dark forest-streams to cross, icy cold and whispering softly. They were hardly ankle-deep, and the Avari jumped them. Faire nonchalantly stepped right across. Once, she lowered her head as if to drink, but jerked back up with a snort and went on.

What is it?

°Not good° was all she said. We had filled our water-flask to the brim this morning since Anawi had already said the water was not fit to drink here. Under a particular mighty, dark tree with black leaves we rested a while. I offered Faire some water, but she glared at me with a °Not yet°. After that rest, we came deeper into the forest. The trees were higher here, and thicker. If we had held each other's hands we might have circled the biggest of them. The duskiness deepened into night.

"Is it so late already?" I had spoken mostly to myself, but Anawi shook his head.

"We are nearing the centre. That tree, it marks the border, kind of. If you go this way. We never tried another. Always dark here. Soon, there might be trouble. The last part of way, they make it hard. It makes itself hard. It is easy going in, but not out"

"Why do we not use the road?" I asked finally, not caring if I appeared a fool.

"Not yet" Anawi said "Roads are predictable. Here, sometimes orcs hunt. But further in, we must use the road"

Trouble, they had said, had a name, but no face. It was shadows, and sounds, and creeping, confusing fear. Sometimes, Gilyaga said, there were the spiders. But they did not expect to meet them here yet, as we were skirting the edges. Later, they might come.

At one point, Siskano moved straight south, and we came back to the old road. This we were following now, the only way that, aside from orcs, was remotely safe. Because sometimes Avari crossed here, with fire and arrows and 'magic'. What that 'magic' was Anawi had not said, and I had not asked. I did not want to know so long as it worked. _Zontuc_ the Avari said, and it sounded more than half like Orc-speech. The word _felt_ wrong. I knew 'magic' was not the correct translation.

It could have been midnight. I lost track of time. There was deep darkness now, and though there was no direct light, there was a greyishness filtering through the webbed canopy, seeming to gather at the feet of the trees. Shadows seemed to move in that grey dark. More than once, I twisted around, staring into nothingness where I had thought to see movement out of the corner of my eye. There were rustles, but no shadows belonging to them – sound and sight did not match. It was an unreal feeling. Once more we halted for a few hours, but none of us slept. I had lost track of time, but roughly assumed we had travelled for a whole day. Or night. It did not matter here. Even when we started off again and Faire moved onward, we seemed to be suspended somewhere. She stopped abruptly when the line ceased to move indeterminable time later. The others formed a circle with her, and Gilyaga gave me a small sign to stay mounted. Siskano knelt and untied the packet of torches. There was suddenly haste to his movements. In the dark, I could only see him as a shape. I tried to watch with night-sight, but it seemed to refuse to work here. All I got that way was more shadows, shadows that were clearer than the trees themselves. I quickly stopped the attempt. Siskano spoke one low, harsh word, passing his hand along the stick he held. A small, blue light gathered around it, like a spark. Blue and unreal in the dark grey shadows, throwing his scarred face into sharp relief. With a soft crackling, the blue spark caught and the torch flickered into bright flame. The shadows seemed to retreat with a sound, though I could not say if there was a sound, or which kind of sound. It was as if the darkness itself had sucked in its breath. Siskano lit the three other torches. Anawi gave one to me and said "Swing it at shadows. Do not use your blade".

He had his sword drawn, and so had Gilyaga, but Siskano held only a torch. When we went on now, it was worse. The shadows seemed to grow in proportion to our light. When we swung our torches at half-seen movements, these seemed to become solid things for a second as they fled back from the brightness. I held one hand in Faire's mane, clasping the leather-thong loosely, and with the other held the torch, flickering and stinking. A part of me felt incredibly foolish, afraid of shadows like a kid. A real city elf. The sensible part was not bothered by that notion. It was properly afraid. And so were the Avari. As Anawi had said before we had started today, they gained speed and traded better, arriving east so early, skipping the mountains – but the price was danger and fear. I did not question the sensibility of lugging their enormous packs with trade-goods through a land that was marked as impassable on maps. Sensibility had taken its leave with the fall of the city.

"Ai!" shouted Gilyaga suddenly, and barely a second later a black thing that looked like a cross between fox and rat shot out of nowhere, scuttling so fast it seemed to slither. Anawi swung his sword, but not fast enough, it seemed. The thing passed him and Faire reared. Her fore-hooves hit something, I felt it, but the shadow-thing was gone. She had not killed it.

"What was that!" A predictable question even as I spoke it.

"Don't know" Anawi's predictable answer.

He walked beside us for a moment "Swift things. We never managed to kill one"

"What if they get you?"

Anawi shook his head and grinned briefly "They never managed that, either"

We went on. I had the doubtlessly fascinating but equally doubtlessly dreadful feeling of getting strangled by air that seemed to become shadow. I held my torch higher, held it in front of me despite the heat, but gave that up when I singed my hair. I closed my eyes and hoped Faire would take my head into account if we met low branches. As the trees were so thick and high here that seemed impossible, though. She moved stiffly, tensed. Time passed, but we dared not rest. Sometimes, I heard Siskano's hoarse voice hiss something. At one point I became aware that Gilyaga held Faire's halter, leading her. I was puzzled, but indignation dwindled before the enormous breathing darkness we were crossing, and the fact that Faire had not even protested. Then I had another fascinating sensation – for the first time in centuries, Faire balked. I was so taken aback that I urged her on like a simple horse without thinking. She was too occupied to take offence. She made a sound that was half snort half whinny. Gilyaga held on to her halter reflexively, but he looked frightened as he glanced at her. The others halted immediately. We stared around into the shifting darkness. The trees were lower here. The branches shone dark red in the firelight. Then the Avari looked at me, uncertain, startled.

Faire what?

It was a moment until she replied with images I could understand.

°Ground. Gone. No. Like water. Water beneath it. Not walk°

"Water" I said "She says there is water under the ground. That the ground is like water. I think we should not go on that way is what she means" Even as I said it, I knew what she meant, though it seemed so out of place here – "Has there ever been quicksand here on your way?"

The Avari looked at each other. Gilyaga had not understood. Siskano obviously repeated the word in Avarin. Without waiting for Gilyaga's answer he went to one of the gnarled, dark-leafed trees and broke off a dead stick. Jabbing it at the ground before him he went on, holding his torch aloft. There was a soft squelching as he walked slowly. Abruptly, his probing stick sank into the leaf-covered ground more than half-way. He swore softly and came back.

"Was not here last time" Anawi said darkly "Soon, the way will be closed. I will not dare going here anymore" He glanced at Siskano, who nodded "Every time we try, it is harder. Can she – can your horse lead us around this? She knows it better than we, it seems"

"Go on" I said after a moment "Siskano, take her halter"

He obeyed, carefully. It was strange. He and Faire walked, she always pulling to one side. We seemed to walk along what must be an underground stream, soaking the ground from below. And we went far from what I gathered was the Path, the occasionally travelled way. Into the shadows. Closer, Siskano did not look nearly as calm as he appeared from the end of the line. He was weary, and frightened, with a determined defiance in the way he walked on. We were in the front now, and the shadows and whispers only opened reluctantly to let us pass. Sometimes, it seemed a black curtain swung towards us, only to turn into bat-wings and flutter off as Siskano jerked the torch towards it. I saw now that the word he occasionally hissed was not a curse, but a few similar words, sometimes accompanied by small, barely visible gestures. The torch, burned low by now, flared brightly at his command. There was a commotion behind us, and Siskano whirled. Anawi had his blade drawn, but Gilyaga was fighting with something my eyes could not seem to define. It was both solid and shadow, many-legged, but of no real size. He was fast, swiping at the legs and bulging outgrowings. Siskano flung his torch like a knife, and when it came hurtling towards the thing I saw for a moment beady, facetted eyes. The thing curled up, twisted and fled. The torch guttered out on the wet leaves. Gilyaga snatched it up and tried to rekindle it on Anawi's. Siskano fumbled another torch from his stack and snarled, making a cutting motion with his hand. Once more, the wood burst into flame, crackling and hissing. The hair on my back prickled and stood on end.

"Quick now" he took Faire's halter, and we hastened on. The ground squelched, and we had to swerve further from our course. When Faire stopped and said °Here° she jerked her head up so fast Siskano was pulled back against her. He caught himself and released her, swinging the line over her neck. I gathered it up.

"Quick now" The Avari fell into a trot again, and Faire followed. She and the others still sunk into the soft ground to their knees, but then we were across the strip of miry ground.

"Not stop!" Gilyaga ordered, and we went on, half running half trotting. I flattened myself to Faire's neck, because here the branches hung lower and I would have knocked my head several times. We ran, and after a few moments knew we were running. There were rustles all around, and the shadows drew in on us. Something came out of the darkness and Anawi's torch was jerked out of his hands. The spot of light we dragged with us diminished. Beady eyes gleamed in front of us. Faire charged, giving me a tiny warning to brace myself. This time, she hit something solidly, and stumbled. There was a loud hiss, more like the breaking of glass, and the black thing raised two gleaming, slightly furred black legs. A large, attacking spider. I saw pincers as long as my forearm. I wanted to jerk Faire aside, but the leather thong dangled loose. She kicked forward again, wheeled and kicked out, much too fast that I saw what she hit or if the spider managed to bite her. Do they sting or bite, I wondered. There was a blaze of light behind us, a shout, and the spider fled. Then the Avari crowded around us, surrounding us with flickering firelight. They were out of breath. Anawi pressed his hand to a gash in his arm. Siskano caught himself against Gilyaga "Run" he ordered no one particular, making a vague gesture "They are here"

I nudged Faire towards him, and she obeyed, moving sideways so I could pull him up behind me. Anawi gave him a hand up and we fled forward. Anawi and Gilyaga ran flat out, and Faire kept behind them at a jarring trot. We were back on a kind of path. The low branches were gone and we gathered speed. Along the path the shadows had now become solid, beady-eyed creatures. They moved with the rustle of large crabs. I found it odd that between these creatures, Faire's trot and the hectic of our flight I thought how long it was since I had last seen a crab. A sea-crab. It was _very_ long ago. I could hear Siskano's harsh breathing behind me.

"_Tela_" he wheezed, and added something in Avarin. They were obviously attuned to listen for his soft commands. Anawi stopped us all. One of the spiders dropped out of the darkness. It looked heavy, but did not plop to the ground. A thick, shiny thread caught it smoothly, and it scuttled towards Anawi, raising its first forelegs high as the first had done. Faire moved forward, but Gilyaga already roared and charged, aiming for the raised legs. She could not go in without risking to kick Gilyaga too. He sheared off one raised leg, barely. The spider flattened and leaped in under his defence. He was bowled over but flung up the torch he held, stopping the pincers before the spider could sink them into his arm. Anawi leaped forward with his torch thrust before him. There was a hiss both from the flames and the spider, it screeched, and retreated. We did not know if it had fled. Gilyaga got to his feet, exchanging a curt nod with Siskano. We ran on, pursued by shadows and our own fear. There were rustles and shadows, but the trees thinned slowly. We could see the sky through the branches. We splashed across a broad, shallow brook. Suddenly, Faire's hooves thundered on the hard ground, leaves rustled, the others gasped from our long run, and sound seemed to return to the world. The night was cold, stars gleamed through holes in the canopy, and the darkness under the trees was black and empty. The Avari slowed, Faire slowed, but we did not stop. Only when dawn came pale, cold and grey we finally halted.

"That's enough" Anawi said. He let his pack drop to the ground and flopped down beside it, gasping. Gilyaga followed suit. I glanced at Siskano behind me, and he gave me a wry, weary smile "Your horse sure has some walk" he whispered hoarsely. We dismounted stiffly, which made the other two snicker dirtily, and dropped down beside them. Faire gave herself a mighty shake.

"There should be a small pond down there" Siskano whispered, gesturing. Faire turned and went off in the direction he indicated.

"Are we safe here?" I asked doubtfully. The forest still did not look that much inviting to me. Anawi shook his head "We will keep watch. But for now, yes. Daylight. Go to sleep, Siskano" he added. Siskano had already pulled his hood up and curled up on the ground. Anawi and Gilyaga glanced at each other "Close, this was. We will not go back that way. Ever, I think. You alright, city elf?"

"I think so"

"You look like hell"

"I do?"

Anawi inspected the gash in his arm "We told you, ride. Ask your horse – the land is like…sponge, you say? It sucks your strength. We met some of your kind, some years back. They were miserable, very much. Said the land drained things"

"I thought the shadows were solid" I said after a while "The darkness breathed"

Anawi stared at the sleeping Siskano "Yes" He was silent for a while "Fire. Only fire keeps it back. When it touches you it is…when we tried crossing first, we stumbled right into it. We went mad, nearly. I take first watch" he added abruptly.

I did not want to sleep with the cold, spooky touch of the shadows so close behind. But Gilyaga curled up beside Siskano, too, and Faire came back from drinking. She lay down beside me, folding her legs gingerly. I leaned back against her warm, solid bulk.

'Lady, are you alright? You ran fast and far'

She craned her neck around and breathed into my palm, saying nothing. She went to sleep quickly, and so did I, despite my misgivings.

Gilyaga must have taken the second watch. He woke me in the early afternoon. I sat up, and after a while Faire got up, too. She stretched, swished her tail, and started to inspect the bushes around the clearing. The day passed slowly, but I did not even feel tired. Once I was awake, the tension was back. I had never paid so much attention to birds and mice, I thought. Faire foraged around our resting place, so I could rely on her as well. After a while I went down to the pond, washed and drank. Siskano was still fast asleep. Towards dusk, I woke Gilyaga and Anawi. They trudged down to the water as well, woke Siskano, and we went off. I did not ride this time. I was stiff from the past ride, the cramped day, and angry at myself. _City elf_. It always came back to that. _Ha_.

As night fell, we lit the remaining torches. We were on a path again. Once, Siskano pointed to the side. He went into the trees a little distance and held his torch down, lighting something on the ground. It was pale white and a bit luminous. It looked like bones covered in mould. Twigs and leaves were caught in it. Siskano held his torch to the stuff, and it withered like hair. It was soft, not solid as it had seemed. The spider-webs, I realized. Was this a deserted one, or something that held their young? If so, maybe it was not a good idea to put fire to it. But then, all that debris caught in the web seemed to show it was deserted. We went on silently.

It was hard to tell sometimes where the road was. The ground was even and hard and covered with dry leaves. Only where they had been swept away at times stones or bare ground showed through. The dark-leaved trees vanished, and were replaced by beeches and oaks. These, too, looked twisted and dark, but the leaves were brownish-yellow and no longer black.

Anawi, walking beside me spoke up suddenly, softly "Those nets…they spread. We are away from the border, and yet there was one, so near the path"

"Deserted" Gilyaga said.

"Not for long" Siskano hissed in front of us. He turned briefly "Not long enough. I will not pass this valley again"

"No" Anawi agreed "Better lose some trading, but not this again"

Chapter Notes:

The Avarin names and words are NOT AT ALL based on the information Tolkien provided about the Avari and their dialects.

8


	15. Chapter 15 The Wild Elves' Land

**The Wild Elves' Land**

Gildor's POV

Dor Dinen, late autumn FA 511

Aspen forest. It seemed unnaturally light and aloof after the shadow-land. The grass underfoot was wet, and bent down with the limpness of autumn, but it was full of life to us. I saw the sign before any of the others did. A blotch of dark on the patterned trunk of a large aspen. I hastened towards it, laid my hands against the trunk to complete the symbol. Anawi laughed in relief.

"That is their land, now. City-elf, we've made it"

I couldn't grudge him the city-elf right now. The symbols of this region corresponded to one of the glyphs on my pendant. I could have found the caches now, here. But we had no need. Anawi had shot a goose this morning, and there was dead wood in plenty for a fire. Siskano lit it with his uncanny swiftness. That night, we had roasted goose and slept peacefully, though we still set a watch. I was on edge, excited, eager to move on, further into the rhevain territory. With some difficulty I restrained my urgency. They would find us soon enough. We wanted to be found, but could hardly raise hell that would betray the rhevain to any possible enemy. After all, we did not come as city elves blundering through here on some business of their own but as traders and friends. The Avari had promised to lead me as close to Bearclaw's group as they could, but I had not expected us to be so precise. Gilyaga said they had a call, one they shared only among themselves. We looked for signs that told us we were going deeper into their territory, and when we saw them, Gilyaga occasionally called for the group. I knew then why he had laughed telling me about that call – he imitated a vixen in heat.

It was answered from a little distance, suddenly. Gilyaga laughed "Bearclaw, here is someone wanting to see you. We came through the shadow-land"

We stayed where we were, waiting. Only Bearclaw himself would answer that call like with like. The Avari had found him. I clutched Faire's mane involuntarily. Suddenly, I had doubts. What did I want here? What did I think he could do? We had been tentative friends, and we had not seen each other for a hundred years. And here I came popping up dragging my own demons after me. And then he came towards us through the aspen trees, visible a good while before he reached us in the airy, light forest. He was as I remembered, that was my first thought. As I had thought of him all the time, wrapped in a shaggy, sleeveless fur-tunic, half-furred leather leggings and high boots that left his knees bare. He still carried an axe. Bearclaw stopped abruptly, stared, and then laughed.

"City-elf! Is that you?" I had expected and feared him to be cautious. Instead, he came running towards me. I let go of Faire's mane and went to meet him, catching him in my arms, fur, axe and all. Every tension and weariness seemed to fall off me. For a moment I thought I was going to make a spectacle of myself and break down, but the strangeness passed.

"Gildor" he pushed me back a little, looked at me as I looked at him. I knew he would know what it meant that I was here. He needed not ask what had happened.

"Well, I said I would come back" I said finally, smiling.

"And I said I would be here" Bearclaw grinned. He squeezed my shoulders, and finally turned to greet the Avari. He spoke in their own language, so I just watched them, laughing and jibing. A silky muzzle rested on my neck °Glad now?°

'Yes lady. I am glad for now'

°For now°

I looked at Faire. She seldom temporized. It was not horse-way. And it was impossible to say how she meant it. She looked down on me with one eye.

'Would you rather not be here?'

°It is good° And that was the end of it. She said it, and turned her attention to Bearclaw and the others. Sometimes, horses were easy to please, I thought wryly. Or they thought they were.

It was harder than expected to take leave of Siskano and his companions. We had travelled far together, and crossed a strange and dangerous land. But they wanted to go further west to trade their baskets with the farmers and wood-men there before coming back to trade what they exchanged there with the wild elves. Bearclaw arranged a place they all knew to meet there in roughly two moons time. They conferred briefly about the distance and the situation in the lands between, and the Avari prepared to go on. Bearclaw was building a fire in a sheltered nook under a strange, solitary wall of stone that seemed like the remnant of an ancient mountain range, all of which except its tip had crumbled into nothing. It had been rounded by wind and rain, and I thought of the hanging or standing pillars deep within caves. This rock had the smooth, wavy look of one of those. Like water that had frozen into stone. For a moment, I had the absurd notion of standing in a giant cave whose roof was the sky beyond the pillar's top.

I embraced the three, and we said our farewells a little awkwardly. I think we were glad of the prospect of seeing each other again in foreseeable time. Things felt a bit unfinished this way. I then remembered that none of them had a steel knife. Or rather, they had _one_, which was a notched, often-sharpened blade that had probably been the work of a smith's apprentice. They had traded dearly for that ill-forged piece, I knew that, because they usually joked about its worth.

When I had announced I wanted to trade in the beginning, for company and safety, I had once thought of trading one of my knives, but felt it had felt too much of a wrench. They and my sword were the only things saved from the burning city. Now, it wasn't so hard. I snapped the small sheath loose and held it out to Siskano who, though not the spokesman was definitely their leader. He hesitated "We crossed the _szetacan_ together" he objected in a soft hiss "As companions"

"It is no payment" I said "A gift"

He took the knife and sheath slowly "It is a kingly gift, then. You know it is worth more than all our trade-goods together. For us leading you into shadow"

I had to laugh "Through the shadow. But the Valar forbid, don't mention kings right now"

He winced, and smiled, a little embarrassed "Thank you, then. You know it will serve us well" He hesitated "Do I…have leave to touch you?"

I was puzzled. The question seemed self-explicable. We had just embraced. But he had spoken Avarin, so there was more to it. I nodded. Siskano took a step towards me and touched my forehead and then my shoulders with his scarred hand. He held his eyes closed as if concentrating, but spoke a few words under his breath. I must have looked my question.

"Fire-charm" he hissed, smiling "Better, I think, than those you could trade for, if you people ever did. Given with knowledge"

My forehead and shoulders prickled with warmth, and the feeling was not unwholesome. But I had never heard of fire-charms "Accepted in complete ignorance" I said truthfully.

They laughed, and I watched as they restrung and shouldered their packs and turned to walk westward. Before they disappeared between the far trees they turned and waved briefly. I raised my hand in farewell, too, and then stood, undecided. The sun had come out, and the forest was bright and patches of light wandered over the grassy floor. There had been aspen trees in the Mountains of Gondolin. When you rode right across the plain and into the foothills, all trees there had been aspens. Our favourite place, that crumbling ledge, had been ringed by them. Had been. I turned resolutely and went back towards the high, lonely wall of stone in the middle of this forest. At its foot, under a massive overhang that formed a shallow nook, Bearclaw turned sticks with salted meat over the flames.

"Not the meal of meals," he observed as I sat down on the other side of the fire, with my back to the rocky wall "but we don't have to hunt today or tomorrow yet. We have flour, too"

I glanced at the large pack he indicated. He had left that and his horse here, by the rocks, when coming to meet us.

"How is it that we found you straight away?" I asked "They said they did not know where exactly you were, and this land is awfully big"

"Lucky chance" Bearclaw grinned "This is Hawk clan's land. I am usually here for the winter. By the stones. I think they counted on that"

"You know them well? Siskano and the others?" Half of me was asking out of curiosity, the other half because I did not yet want to face _his_ questions. And because I found myself awkward suddenly, though I could not say why, or how.

"Ah, we trade well. You have seen their baskets? The ones Siskano makes?"

I nodded.

"We always need some. And the farmers west do, too. They trade for Siskano's rather than weave their own. That's one reason why the three cross the mountains for trading. When they come first or last in the year, they have greatest gain. Usually they are one year on this side, spend the winter here, and then re-cross and use spring and summer to make new goods. They trade for their clan over there. Otherwise, I think, they could make a better living hunting and gathering for themselves"

"The farmers seldom trade for steel, it seems" I said.

Bearclaw glanced at me speculatively "They seldom do, yes. First, they need what they exchange for themselves, and only give away things if they have better ones to replace them. And then, they are a bit frightened. Like your people, remember – not wanting to give us weapons they think we might use against them. So we are all short of steel"

He turned the meat around. It was nearly finished. He shared my habit of placing things on spits as close as possible to the flames, in a kind of shock-roasting. Something that had always driven Glorfindel mad when we had been out camping.

"What's a fire-charm?" I asked.

Bearclaw laughed "Singed you hair hugging your torch, did you?"

I unconsciously raised my hand to touch the singed and consequently shorter strands, feeling myself reddening. I clamped down on indignation, but before I could think of answering him or snapping he added "That's what happens to all three of them often when they cross _szetacan_. They were lucky this time, it seems. But fire-charm…" Bearclaw looked into the flames for a moment "Coming from Siskano it is what it is, I can promise you. There is lots of charm-work around here. The farmers are after it like blood-hounds. Charms for and against everything, bound to everything you can imagine. I don't know about that. But Siskano knows fire, which I mean literally. What he says is a fire-charm is one, no matter if he binds it to a stone or not"

"A stone?"

"Yea. The farmers again. They are not keen to have charms on themselves. But they are always willing to trade for ones bound to things. In lots of cases they fall for fake, or have more superstition than their charms effect, but there are true ones. Usually, if someone trades in one charm only, it's a true one. It's knowledge, I suppose. With a measure of Avarin magic"

"Magic?"

"Whatever you want to call it. I know neither you nor me would want to meddle in that. The making, I mean. The outcome can be quite useful, though"

"What do you know of them? Siskano and his group?"

Bearclaw shrugged "His group, not that much. His story, a bit"

I looked at him quizzically

"I can only tell you what he told me. Among the Avari, there is a…skill that they call _sishanna_. Fire-starting. Siskano had always had that. He tried to build on that, had a way with fire. One summer, lighting struck a patch of dead trees in his clan's land and in no time, the whole forest was burning. They snatched their things and ran with all the rest of the forest creatures. Siskano remained behind after a while, and tried to do something to swerve the flames. It was their land after all. They lost a year's worth of trade goods in that fire. But you can imagine it was a vain try, bespeaking a forest fire. He was surrounded and retreated to a swampy place in the forest, hoping the flames would not creep over the wet ground. But the trees themselves were dead and dry there, and they caught fire. One split apart, or its top broke off, but a load of burning branches came hurtling down and he could not get away because there were only flames around. He was pinned down under the burning branches, but he could shield his eyes and turn a little so one side was in the mud. I think fear of death can give you quite some power. He concentrated on bespeaking the flames nearest to him, and it worked. He had to wait out until the forest around him was only smouldering and he could crawl out. It was pretty smoky, and he breathed that all the time. He was sick for a whole moon afterwards, and his voice very much gone. If he has to run for great length of time, he gets trouble breathing. But since then he can do things with fire easily that were hard work before. Starting it, for example. Speaking smaller blazes out. He can set protections against it, as he did on himself that day, instinctively. He can bind them to things, or to creatures. And that is what the farmers call charms" Bearclaw paused "He says to set such a charm, he needs no real magic. Whatever he means by that. He says he just calls up the memory of that moment in the fire, and the flames will obey, coming, or going out. It is a…how do you say…latent thing, I think, that he calls charm. In need, it awakens itself. If he binds it to something, he uses the force of that creature he binds it to. If he bespeaks things, like stones or, if the farmer's wealthy, maybe a whole barn, he needs to use his own power, put something of that into the thing.

You know, he has to hide himself when they trade, sometimes. Because of how he looks like. Can you see how absurd that is? The farmers buy stones he has bespelled, by his own power, but they would be frightened to death seeing him. Siskano says he has a few, very old men by now, and their families who know him, knew him before the fire, where he can still go openly. To most others, he only sends Anawi and Gilyaga, or trades at night, when he can hide his face. The humans are so weird. They think someone marred in body is always twisted in spirit as well. They would get him into great trouble. Some of them. They…they burn their own folk calling them sorcerers"

Bearclaw toyed with a stick, poking the ashes "...But the charms…That does not mean it will keep a barn from burning, or keep you from getting burned if you touched fire, it is more like…I don't know how to say it. It makes the resistance greater, maybe. A burning arrow will not immediately set the barn to smoulder, for example. So Siskano's charms…" Bearclaw trailed off. I did not ask further. He was right, I did not want to meddle in that. But neither did it bother me as I had thought it might have, had I heard the same thing in Gondolin. Without ever having crossed the _szetacan_ with Siskano.

The meat was done. "Enjoy the piece between the raw and the charred parts" Bearclaw said with a grin. It wasn't as bad as it looked or as he had said. He had talked a long while. Partly, probably, to put me at ease. We ate in silence, though.

"What about these…rocks?" I asked after a while, gesturing to the wall under which our nook was. I was uncomfortably aware of the vast, unsupported height of the pinnacle-like rock above us. The stone it consisted of was yellow-grey and crumbly. If one rubbed it vigorously, small showers of particles came loose. I could have burrowed our nook further back into the wall.

Bearclaw followed my glance "There is lots of them, further on. Full of nooks and caves. Like a sort of mountain range all broken up. I can show you tomorrow. From the Hawk's nest we can see most of our land. We are here, for the winter always, sometimes for summer, too. It is good hunting here. But still we have to be careful when we stay really long. Hunting further away. Beasts learn, quickly. And there are hawks here, a lot. That's why we are hawk-clan. Our land"

"Have you been here all that time?" I finally asked "In this land? Or near? All these years?"

"All these years" Bearclaw confirmed "Your people have named it, but hardly ever come here. So far, this land has remained ours, in a way. And the farmers stay away, too. It is too rocky, and there are wolves and bears, with too many holes to hide in than that they could hunt them out. And we hide here, too. For us, it is good land" He paused "There are beasts here, though you never hear them. Even the wolves don't howl. _Szetacan_ – Nan Dungortheb - is very near. We get attacked, sometimes. Really attacked, I mean. Spiders come here. Sometimes orcs come out of the mountains. But this is all rock and forest. The orcs are less danger than the spiders, see. We have so many paths between the rocks further inside, and ways to climb them, it is like a maze. The orcs do not survive long. But when spiders come, they go into the cracks, into the deep ravines where we can't climb. They spin thread and shadow. It is hard to get them out. But fire's the trick, we know now. Siskano, you see. Though it's a pity to have to burn so much around them often"

My imagination supplied me with enough material to picture such a spider-hunt. Also, with the appearances of its objects.

"And you have been in that city"

It was a statement. I nodded.

"All these years?"

I smiled a bit ruefully "All these years"

"But no longer"

"No"

"Will you do it again if they rebuilt?"

"No" I said without needing to think "I know that as I know little else" Also, there was little chance that there would ever be something remotely like Gondolin.

"Little else?"

"Very little"

Bearclaw fed small sticks to the fire and made himself comfortable against a tree-trunk that had been dragged here, probably as bench "You want to talk?"

I hesitated, looking away into the gathering dusk. But oddly enough, I found that I wanted to, now. Though I told the story backward. I had to. Get the worst over with first.

Bearclaw had known Glorfindel too. I left out very little. Not even the private tale of him and me. The wild elf listened without interruption, without stirring. It was deep night when I finally fell silent. There was no nice ending, no wrapping up of the tale. Because, I realized, it was not yet finished. And even as I realized that, I wondered why not? It should have been. It should have ended very long ago, before Gondolin. It should have ended now, after Gondolin. But it hadn't. I had even passed Nan Dungortheb to get here, in the hope for – what? Why go on? Why not simply stop?

"Will you stay here?" Bearclaw shook me out of that wild circle of thoughts "...I wished you would"

Everything seemed very far away from me suddenly. I answered from that distance, still seeing that one path clearly and wondering if I could not take it.

_I wished you would_. So did I.

"I will stay" I said "Until I see my way clearly…If you can accept that"

"I have learned to accept a lot" Bearclaw smiled "Your place is not here, I know. But neither in one of their cities. If I may say so"

I rubbed my eyes, suddenly incredibly tired "You may. You may indeed"

"Go to sleep" he said "I keep watch anyway"

"No" I sat up straighter, looking into the flames and hoping the tiredness might vanish with the light. "If I sleep, I dream" I found myself admitting "I don't want to, yet"

Bearclaw looked across the fire at me. He could probably guess _what_ I dreamed. Or didn't dream. I dropped my gaze involuntarily. Maybe Glorfindel could have used a fire-charm better than I. But then, what power could Avarin magic have against a demon that was more shadow than flame? And at any rate, it was dead now. They were both dead. I looked up when Bearclaw came around the fire and crouched down beside me.

"Look here" he said quietly "You are not looking for distraction, and you will remember what I said once – I am not looking for bedmates either, let alone on the male side. You are a friend, a dear friend, and I don't want to lose you thinking I was courting when I touch you. Right?"

I remembered well what he had said. In fact, I remembered most of our conversations word by word. I had not really thought he would have changed his mind so much. Still, that he said it so bluntly gave me the opportunity not to loose my face. I could never have asked him for comfort had he not put both our cards on the table.

He was here now, solid and shaggy and everything life in Gondolin had not been, so that it was safe to face that now, here. I was cold despite the fire, and so I forgot about pride and curled up in his embrace. I had not cried since that moment the eagle had alighted on that rough cairn I had scratched together snarling at everyone who offered help. I did so now, shamelessly.

Time passed somewhere else. It started for me again when there was a point where there was only hollowness, and no more tears. There was Bearclaw, too, holding me, surrounding me with the scent of wood-smoke and bearskin.

"I'm sorry" I said when I could think, breathe and talk again "Here I come out of nowhere, blubbering all over you…"

"You are pretty silent" he replied after a moment "No blubbering, really"

I had to laugh despite myself. If I had kept my face before not having to say I feared advances I rationally knew he would never make, I had definitely lost it now. No point in hiding. I sat up a little, gingerly. I was all stiff and still cold. He did not let me go, and I was grateful for that.

"Is there water?" I asked after another long while "I think I should have a wash"

He let me go then "There is a spring under this rock. If you go around left, you come right across it"

I returned to the fire after cooling my face and hands in the small, deep hollow in the rocky ground, where the falling water had carved out a pond.

"Sleep now?" he asked when I sat down again.

"I don't know" I said "If I can"

He had rolled out the black deer-skin I still used as bed-roll and patted it. I lay down beside him and curled up, facing away from the fire. My back was hot, now, but the rock-wall gave out a chill. There was a rustle, and Bearclaw cast the bearskin he wore over me.

"You'll be cold" I protested.

He laughed "Never, city-elf"

I kept my eyes closed and rolled tighter in the heavy fur. It smelled cleaner than it looked, earthy and smoky, and of Bearclaw himself. I felt his hand on my shoulder. I had usually slept alone. I had treasured my nights alone. Even if we had had the choice of sharing rooms, I don't think either Glorfindel or me would have wanted it. We both wanted to close the door behind us now and then. I wouldn't have thought I could sleep with someone keeping watch like this, but I could. And I did not dream.

The next morning was full of wind and sunshine. There would be rain at night, but for now, the sky was deep blue and the wind hissed and rushed in the half-naked branches. I woke late, and only because of that sound. Faithful as a stone-figure, Bearclaw was still there, his hand warm on my shoulder. He grinned like a cat "You don't snore"

I blinked. He had spoken rhevain, and the words took a double turn to reach my brain. It took another double turn to form a reply "I…don't think I…ever did"

He kept grinning "I will have to teach you proper rhevain"

"Yes" I said, sitting up "I hope you will…Is it not…secret?"

"You just kept your silence for five hundred years"

"Four-hundred. And well, I don't speak so good. Also, who should I have told?"

He shrugged "In any case I will teach you. You are hawk clan"

I glanced at him, but this time he did not grin. He reached for a metal pot and a second mug, poured something steaming into them.

"You _have _traded well" I said "We never had stuff like this in…in Gondolin"

He nodded "That's the advantage when the Avari trade with farmers who also trade with merchants who in turn trade with merchants and so on. This spice comes costly, because, we are told, it's from very far away, but it's worth its price, I think. It's a winter-thing, the farmers say. They have that festival in midwinter, too, and then they afford this stuff. I think we can use some of that now"

"What is it called?"

"We say maui, which means simply sweet spice. But the farmers say cinnamon"

The day passed quickly, somehow. We walked in the sunlit woods until the sky became pearly and thin, high bars of cloud appeared, driven by the strong wind. Bearclaw led me to the next nearest pinnacle of rock, and there was a steep, smooth path up to it. Faire had followed us in contented silence, but she refused the climb up and instead turned her attention to a patch of sheltered and therefore still green grass. Bearclaw and I climbed to a recess halfway up the pinnacle. There, the path ended and only sheer, steep rock rose above us. There were hawks' eyries up there, and so the rock was called Hawk's nest, Bearclaw said.

From here, we could see far over the land. It was all wooded, slightly hilly, and huge, single formations of rock rose out of the trees, wooded as well where they were not sheer stone. On one side were the high mountains, their peaks white already, and on the other, barely visible, a part of the land _Szetacan_ we had crossed. It was hazy there, and dark, as if rain was already falling there. Bearclaw named the rocks, pinnacles and walls, slowly, pointing out where the winter camp was, where good caves where, and where we would meet Siskano and the others.

In the darkening light, under the pearly sun, this land looked very foreign and dismal. It was beautiful, wildly so, but this beauty seemed to belong to its wildness alone. I wondered if there was room or reason for me here – a city-elf, after all.

"What do you want to do?" Bearclaw asked after a while of staring in silence across this strange land "We can go back to the rest of the group now, or we stay here a while, and go later. Maybe when Siskano and his brothers come to the Last Stone?"

Both the question and the information took me by surprise. Playing for time, I digested the second bit first. Brothers. Well, I might have guessed that. They had functioned too perfect crossing the shadow-land to be just a group of merchants, friends or not. Also, it made my gift of one knife to three seem much less ridiculous. The first bit was harder. I thought of last night. Bearclaw's quite presence keeping those dreams away.

"I would stay with you a while. Alone" I admitted.

The wind blew sharp up here, and gained in sharpness the more the sun vanished behind the high, thickening veil of clouds.

"But shouldn't you go back to…the others?"

Predictably, Bearclaw laughed "I am their leader, not their father. I can hang about where I want. And they are perfectly capable of surviving without me" Again, the cat-grin "By surviving I mean not knocking their heads in over a meat-bone"

From up here, the land seemed like the maze Bearclaw had named it last night. It seemed, too, like a promising thing, suddenly. If you could lose yourself in a maze, maybe you could lose your trouble there as well. Bearclaw's easiness seemed contagious.

As we descended the steep winding path carefully (I knew then perfectly well why Faire had refused – down was much harder than up) a few first drops of rain fell. "You are still…leader then?" I asked, interrupted when we both slipped on loose sand. I remembered very well that he had told me of a fight between him and an Avar for the lead of the group. In four-hundred years a lot of others could have challenged him. His remark now told me there was a bit of difference I should remember here. Pack mentality. No nobility, here. Bearclaw grunted in confirmation "'Course. There were a bit of fights, but nothing serious" Another cat-grin. The claw-shaped scars on his cheeks gave him a sharp, vicious look. I glanced at the heavy axe that he had not once wedged or scraped on our narrow climb here.

"Well, I certainly don't want to get on your wrong side" I said with feeling.

He did not grin this time "Underestimating yourself again, hm?"

"What do you mean?" I asked sharply, stopping my climb. He glanced up at me, then straightened and held my gaze "City-elf, there are those of us who fear your kind. Why are you so completely unaware of that?"

Now I laughed "Fear us? Fear me? What for?"

Bearclaw shrugged "Hard for you to look into your own eyes with a stranger's, yes"

"You have never spoken in riddles before, wild elf"

He leaned against the rock. We were a good distance from the bottom yet.

"What is the west to you?" he asked "Where you come from? The bright land?"

"A memory" I said. I did not have to think about _that _answer either. True hope lies beyond the coast. The words of Gondolin's fall. They had not touched me as the hope, only as the warning "A memory of luck and light that ended in darkness. It is gone"

Bearclaw looked at me for a long while without moving "You are…different" he said slowly "I have known a few of your kind, while you were gone. I have worked for a few, scouting, tracking, the usual stuff. They treasure what you call a memory. To them, it is not gone. They do not want it to be gone. And they hold the power of that memory. They are bright, keen, and frightening. I would not want to get on their wrong side. They are not like us. But _you _are like them. You are bright, too"

"There are Eldar among the wild elves" I shot back.

Bearclaw still stared at me. I had seen a bear, once, close up. There had been something patient and very calm in that gaze, seizing me up before the bear moved on. I was forcibly reminded of that bear's eyes now, with Bearclaw wrapped in his namesake's skin, hunching his shoulders a little against the wind, and giving me that same look.

"No there ain't"

"What about Veriё?"

"She is Noldo. There _are_ Noldor. But none who came from the west"

And I was not a wild elf. I was here, but I had done nothing that would make me an outlaw. I took a breath "What is the…gist of what you are saying?"

Now he smiled "Several things. Siskano and the others, they said this: You were with them, and crossing was easier. They would have been very, very hard put to it without you. The shadows did not touch you so much"

"But I did nothing!" I said angrily "I sat on Faire, squeezed my eyes shut, and thought the world was sucking itself away around me. And I singed my hair!"

Bearclaw laughed, and so did I, because it was the only thing to do bar shouting "As I said, you can't look into your own eyes" Bearclaw said stubbornly "To them, it was quite different. Whatever you are, and however little you might account for what you are, it is there, and it protects you"

I grunted unbelieving "Me. It did not protect Glorfindel either"

Another bear-look "City-elf. He challenged a demon. Something very like those that _made_ the west. Made this world, if I have your legends right"

I closed my eyes and looked away for a moment. Bearclaw was in the lucky position not to have lost a lover. He had very much respected Glorfindel, and liked him. I knew he had counted him as a friend before I had ever met either of them. But still, he had not hesitated saying that he could afford a kind of distance to that loss which I could not. Neither had he ever been told that this was not his world, living in it though he did. Sometimes, I wished fervently to have been born a dark elf.

"And to come back to what you said" he continued, mercifully not responding to the grief I had unintentionally called up "That means that any challenge the rhevain might want to pose you can only be motivated by fear – fear that is strong enough they would fight one of your kind. You could never get on my wrong side, city-elf, because I would be turning to keep you on the right. I would _never_ fight you. And I know it will be the same for others"

I blinked "You were not that hesitant in what made you what you are"

"Ha" he made "Damn, I love that way you can turn a knife" He paused, and looked down "Come. I know your lady had objections in the beginning. She will like to hear the tale"

Puzzled, I followed Bearclaw down to the bottom.

"The one fact is" Bearclaw said as we went slowly back towards the shelter under our rock "that I usually punch first and then think. Oh, not with you. But I used to at court, which is usually what gets you out of court. Aside from falling in love without marriage"

I smiled wryly.

"I still do" he continued "And here, it is my survival. That is, my survival as leader. If someone challenges the leader, you had better not think why or how but meet that challenge. Preferably to win"

"At the cost of your life?"

Bearclaw shrugged "Your decision. Need not be. You know, both must agree to that. But the court: Aranif and me, we were enemies to the blood. We grew up together. That is, beside each other, more precisely. We were at each other's throats as kids, and we still were as adults. Only then, we played the game in earnest. No more insults or elbow-fights in the mud. We played each other up – or down, if you will – whenever we could in front of as many people as possible. One day, there was a big feast. We had to be there. I wanted to refuse, knowing he would be there too, but I had to attend. That made me angry in the first place. I knew we would hack away at each other again, and it would be worse for the grand occasion, the guests, and Aranif had a girl to impress. He thought he could impress her, that is. There was lots of wine, too. I can't really recall what happened. There were sports, show-fights, he challenged me. He played dirty, I played dirty, but he was better. I ended up on the floor and that was humiliation purely. We were supposed to disarm only, but he thought it fitting to draw blood. He was a boasty fighter. I was a mean one. I killed him with his own knife, twisting up when he thought I surrendered. I had thought to wound him, severely maybe, but not to kill" Bearclaw shrugged "Thinking is not my tendency if weapons are involved"

"What happened?"

"Well the feast was ruined, of course. There were healers everywhere, and guards. No-nonsense guards. But I have always killed neatly, even if I had not meant to. So the only thing left was to get me out of the way. I saw the dungeons of Thingol's palace then, for the first time, though I had been born there. You know the penalty for murder. For kinslaying"

I looked down. I had not been at the Havens to fight. By pure chance. I would have marched with Fingon, but I was waiting for Silmarusse. So we had marched under his father. I did not know what I would have done had we been there first, with Fingon. Still, we probably could be counted all alike, I thought. Our leaving in the first place had led us up to Alqualonde.

"I was frightened out of my mind" Bearclaw continued "There would be a trial, but who except my closest family might speak out for me? And I had no closest family. My father was not there. He was a border-guard, and on some mission I did not know the cause of. My mother had died when I was a babe. She had been a border-guard, too. I was not sure who would speak, and if at all, and if they did, what their voice would count. After all, there was nothing to proof or to deny. Everyone had seen that I had been in the wrong, though he had provoked me. I nearly died of terror that night. When they took me out the next morning – court was held outside then, in the open forest – I tore free. They had not chained me. I stole a horse, rode like thunder to the border, nearly killed one of the guards that tried to stop me, and broke through the Girdle. It did not hold me in. I don't know if I was followed or if they let me go. There are times when I think they would not have killed me, even if I had awaited the verdict. But the rest you know, a bit. The bear, the wild elves" He grinned "Here I am"

That night, as we lay at the far end of the nook, sheltered from the rain and wrapped under the bearskin both, I mulled over what he had said on the rock this day.

It was hard lying on the unyielding ground. Years sleeping in a bed had their effect. Bearclaw lay with one arm shielding his eyes from the dim fire-light, perfectly at ease. I had to grin in curious satisfaction. Here I was, comfortably prepared to go to sleep in the arms of a convicted murderer, and thought I could have no better companion. And there was no wryness, no sarcasm I could find in that thought. I had seen a way yesterday, clearly. Though I had not seen how I could walk that way. There were moments like this, when I thought I did not want to go that way.

"Bearclaw" I said softly "Are you afraid of death?"

He lay still for a moment. Then he laughed. Of course. He always laughed.

"You ask the question wrongly" he said, lowering his arm to look at me "I have no answer to that. Maybe, yes. I was, that night I killed Aranif. Maybe, no. Sometimes"

"Well, no answer is an answer, too, I suppose" I said.

He grinned, but then grew grave "It depends. Everything depends, I think. I just don't know on what. I might die awfully quick, out here. But I don't think about it. So far I have survived. Well enough. So I am not frightened. I suppose"

"You suppose. What do you suppose the…what might be in store for you if you happen to…catch the wrong end of a blade?"

"Ah" he said "That is what you're playing at. The powers. Those…halls. Mandos, yes?"

I shrugged. That was what I had meant.

"Well" Bearclaw stretched and glanced at me "I think what I will do about that is this: I will avoid it until the end of my life"

After a moment, I had to laugh "You're an idiot"

He nodded comfortably "Yes. Yes, I know that. Well enough…But what I meant" he added after a while "Is that we can do nothing about it now. When you come there, you can deal with it. Whatever they say, you can't change it anymore. I think, we made our choices long ago" He glanced at me carefully, decided it obviously safe to go on "You chose with your lady. You left against their laws. I decided – or did not – when I acted in anger. I killed against their laws. I don't know where They draw the line what's worse – but we can't change it now, anymore. I think"

"Maybe not" I agreed after a while. Probably not. Where They judged something wrong would not be our standard of judging something wrong.

"It seems unfair"

He looked at me startled "You, city-elf? You say that?"

I had startled myself. After all, so far I had been lucky in my hunts, hadn't I? Had not Ulmo counselled us even if we had not listened, guarded us on our flight down Sirion? He, of all of them, still had come to us. He had been there, in the borders of the willow land – we had not been attacked there.

Still -.

"I might be wrong" I said with a wry smile "I often am"

Chapter notes:

Aranif: (S), "kingly face"

Verie: (Q), "daring"

Dor Dinen: "The Silent Land" is said to be a stretch of land between the Esgalduin and the Aros where nothing dwelt (_The Silmarillion, _"Of Beleriand and its realms").

Why nothing dwelt there I cannot find out, nor how exactly the land looked like, i.e. what kind of forest if any, or if it was rocky. For this story I took the geological freedom to transfer the region in eastern Germany which is called "Elbsandsteingebirge" to Dor Dinen and add just a few living (even if silent) things.

13


	16. Chapter 16 Darkstone

**Darkstone**

Gildor's POV

Dor Dinen, late autumn FA 511

I met 'the rest', or part of it, sooner than I had expected. We were near the Cold Lake when we were hailed. Hailed, not challenged. This silent, empty land belonged undisputedly to the wild elves alone. Bearclaw responded with the proper, soft answer. All sounds were soft here. After a while it seemed one started talking almost in whispers so as not to disturb the wind which was the only sound. This was Hawk clan's internal call, but the elves that arrived were not of his group. The one coming towards us first, on foot, had a leader's badge around his neck. He was tall, and wore dark armour which reminded me uncomfortably of orcs by its make-up, though not by its meticulous cleanliness. His hair was black and straight, falling down to his waist. He looked arrogant, with a cold confidence that made me glad Bearclaw was here to do the introduction. He wasn't deterred by the cool demeanour and got off his horse. The two embraced, and exchanged a few rapid sentences in rhevain. Bearclaw looked sour and growled like his namesake when he turned back to me "Blaze and the others had some trouble with human travellers at our border. It's a day's ride from here, I will go and have a look. Would you go ahead to the Cave-wall with Darkstone? Rain's group should already be there. I will meet you there in two days time at the most"

I wasn't terribly thrilled at the prospect going with this dour wild elf alone, neither did I want to cause complications right here. So I said "Of course". Bearclaw took his bedroll and stuffed the remains of cold roast meat from a deer we had killed two days ago into a smaller bag. He cast the rest of his massive pack to Darkstone, who caught it neatly. With a thunder of hooves, Bearclaw was gone and I stood there with this strange elf. Darkstone gestured for me to follow. Despite his initial cold look, he did not seem to have much objection to my presence. Or he was good at hiding it. When I dismounted, he smiled, though "You need not walk for politeness' sake. The rest are back there" he gestured vaguely ahead "I just left my horse with them, he still tends to squeal going away from his mates"

"Oh" I said stupidly, then asked "Young horse?"

Darkstone nodded "Very. Wouldn't be riding him at all if my own horse hadn't got killed some moons ago. He got away from some farm, during a raid or burning I think. Must have been far away because no farm near here was burned. He was quite singed, and is scared of the tiniest ember. We followed him three days before he let me come near. So now I ride him – most of the time. The rest, I spent getting thrown. You know Blaze, I hear?"

"Er – yes. A bit"

"Thought of asking that he set a fire-charm on _him _when they come here. Maybe it works. I can't afford having a horse that sets me down ass-first at the sight of a flame"

He introduced me to the rest of his group matter-of-factly, as a friend of Bearclaw's. No one objected, though they looked a bit doubtful. There were three males and two females in this group, which astonished me a bit. Darkstone went through the names "Icefall, Winterlight, Nightstorm, Digger and Greycloud. Don't bother to remember who is who now, hey you always does the trick"

They had a boar and a buck with them, already gutted and tied to stakes for carrying. Icefall and Darkstone mounted and lead the others' horses, so I got on Faire's back again as well. A short time later we came to a small lake, dark and cold, and there we halted. All of them made straight for the water after seeing to the horses. They let them stray, except Darkstone's young stallion and the small, restive black mare that belonged to Icefall. Faire had taken an immediate dislike to her whose ears seemed to point always backward. She kept out of the reach of the small, round hooves and assumed a dolorous expression. I brushed her coat while the others bathed, having absolutely no desire to go into that icy-looking lake. Faire went off foraging after that as well, but I was not left alone on the shore. Darkstone ducked out of a forming ring as the others began tossing a piece of drift-wood. Half the time the slippery thing escaped their grasp and smacked someone across the nose. Darkstone wrung out his hair and withdrew a tattered linen from his pack that obviously served as towel. He tied it around his waist and came up to where I sat.

"Care for gathering fire-wood?"

"Sure" I had assumed I was meant to go, but he went with me, barefoot and still dripping. There was plenty dead wood so we did not have to go far. By the time the others came out of the lake we had two fires going a good distance from the horses, and had a good supply of wood handy. The boar and buck were meant to be roasted tonight so that the meat would not go bad. If Bearclaw brought his group and the Avari here that store would soon be gone, but the next hunted animals would end as smoked meat for winter storage, Darkstone explained as we watched the others carving their prey expertly. He left it at my decision to take a stack of meat to roast, but said I should at least take some to eat for myself. There would be no proper meal tonight and everyone would take what he wanted and when he wanted. He went off with the others "after greens" then, and I and Greycloud were left to turn meat over the flames. Greycloud was silent, but mostly because his Sindarin was worse than my rhevain. That is, I had learned rhevain from Bearclaw, a good deal by now, but Greycloud spoke another dialect that made it hard for us to understand each other. He came, I gathered, from much further east, from musk-ox clan. So our communication was restricted to an occasional smile and a few gestures to settle arrangements. When the others returned with armfuls of muddy roots and other unidentifiable vegetation two more fires were lit in the neighbouring clearing.

"You sleep too" he offered, seeing me yawn as we watched the meat sizzle and brown slowly "No watch"

I was about to take that offer and roll up right here when I remembered leaving my pack and bedding in the main glade. I followed the reddish glow of the fire there and the soft voices of Darkstone and Icefall through the pines to retrieve it, but stopped short on entering the glade.

"Oops" I said, moving to turn on my heel. As captain of the scouts I had walked in on a number of couples in the past, but then I had decidedly been in the better position. I had left them to their business, ignoring protocol, but at least I had not been the one to blush.

"Stay, Gildor" Darkstone said, waving his hand "Had we wanted privacy we would have walked well out of the camp"

"Yea, well, sure" I mumbled, wishing the earth would swallow me "I was just going to get my pack, it's in the heap there"

"At the bottom" Darkstone pointed out with a smirk "Stop blushing and sit down, we have mead. I forget your people have – lets call it stricter laws. I assumed you knew of Icefall and me"

I sighed. Wonderful "How should I?"

"That's a good question, you know?" Icefall pointed out with a grin "How should he?"

Darkstone groaned "Yes, how should he. I should have thought Bearclaw wouldn't say. Darn. It's all that Silverleaf's fault, driving me mad and silly"

"I don't know about laws" I said "I just prefer not to walk in on people. What's Silverleaf?"

"Well you didn't walk in on us" Icefall said lazily "But Silverleaf, that's a he, and trouble. For now, he is part of our group. That is, he is with us. Did you see any trace of that barking dog, by the way?"

I withdrew my pack from the clutter "I saw nothing. No one, that is"

"Your rhevain's pretty good" Darkstone observed.

"Not good enough to talk with Greycloud yet" I said.

He laughed softly "Ah, musk-ox clan. That's some language, eh? I keep having to ask twice still"

"Better having to ask twice than to order twice" Icefall said gloomily. Darkstone smiled grimly "That's what we were discussing. Silverleaf"

"Though it probably didn't look like it. Give me that-" Icefall twisted to reach for a chipped earthenware mug and poured mead from a water skin, then handed the mug to me, gesturing "Sit down" he repeated.

I dropped my pack and gave in "You certainly live well in this wilderness"

"Not so loud" Icefall warned "The moment Digger hears the word _mead_ we'll have to fight to get the skin back. Excepting the three of us no one here likes the stuff, but it was Darkstone's prey we traded for this"

"And I'm the one with all the trouble, so he's not going to get a single drop" Darkstone said grimly, refilling his own mug without sitting up and almost overturning the vessel.

"Yea, right" Icefall snatched the mug before it tipped over "No one will because you're going to water the plants with it" He tied the skin shut and handed the full mug back to Darkstone.

"So this Silverleaf is giving you a hard time?" I asked, casting about for something to say. I still felt my cheeks burning.

"Yup" Darkstone said, sitting up a little to be able to drink and then lying back to rest his head in Icefall's lap. Icefall stared into the flames darkly "Impudent whelp"

"He is not happy with the way I lead, would rather do it himself" Darkstone said "He had a great row with Icefall here before you came" he told me "And right now he makes trouble just to keep me busy, I guess. He won't be here long. We will be at each other's throats soon"

"You think he will challenge you?"

"If he doesn't leave on his own before – which I don't think he will" Darkstone shrugged "I am not willing to back down either"

"No one will follow him" Icefall snarled softly "We are with you"

Darkstone sighed "And I'm glad for it. But he knows, Icefall. It's just he has gone so far now all else will seem cowardly"

"And foolish. Young fool"

"I challenged Bearclaw" Darkstone said wryly "_That_ was foolish, don't you think?"

"You were older. You had experience. You had the _right_"

"Everyone has the right to challenge the leader, young or not"

"He can't best you" Icefall put his mug down with a thud.

"No one here has fought him" Darkstone returned curtly "You only quarrelled with him because he called you a lovesick fool. _I _have no idea what to expect of him. I will be wary"

Icefall frowned "He is mad to challenge. And you are mad to tolerate his madness. If you are not going to get him out soon, I will"

"He would be a good leader" Darkstone stated calmly.

"He would be a good tyrant"

Darkstone squinted up at him "Look who's talking"

"You were _not_ like him" Icefall stated emphatically "I can't remember you staging such a battle of wills against Bearclaw"

"No, I just stuck the knife into his tree without testing ground" Darkstone snapped sardonically, then sighed "Maybe I did not because it is a silly mean thing. But I can see how he feels here, Icefall. Can't you?"

"No" the silver-haired elf replied "I went with you though you were an arrogant bastard yourself. But I would not set a foot out of the camp on _his_ heels"

"He would be a good leader" Darkstone repeated, as much to Icefall as to me "He is acting the fool countering all of my commands just to prove his rejection, but on his own I know he would give just the same orders I do"

Icefall remained silent. The soft hooting of an owl sounded near. Darkstone made to get up "Greycloud. I suppose he needs more wood"

Icefall rose quicker, putting down his empty mug "It's alright, I'll bring it to him. Before I burst or shout" he added in a low voice.

Darkstone sighed "Thank you" He shifted to lean back against the trunk of a pine and stretched, shaking his head slightly "He won't crush a fly if it stings him, but somehow I think he would _love_ to kill Silverleaf"

"Why is he playing you up? Silverleaf, I mean?"

"He and Icefall are playing each other up" Darkstone corrected "It is not necessarily me Silverleaf tries to rile, it's just that Icefall – he is very touchy about _me_ sometimes. That plays right into Silverleaf's hands. Or rather, it riles Icefallno end that Silverleaf can turn on him so neatly"

"Hm" I nursed my mug of mead, staring into the flames. I could not estimate what to expect of Darkstone. He shifted so quickly between the cold leader I had seen this morning and someone who snatched some time alone with his lover that I did not know how to behave with him. I thought I might like him. There was something about him that made me cautious, though, but it was not dislike.

"We don't fit, Silverleaf and I" Darkstone stated before I found an intelligent answer "It is all building up to a clash"

"Between you and him"

"Of course" Darkstone laughed grimly "Not even Silverleaf will circumvent the leader and attack the second in command. Or the other way round"

"You think he might try and kill you?" I asked "Will you accept that decision?" Bearclaw had elaborated on what they called fighting for the lead. Both fighters had to agree, as well as the group. Or their groups, if the point was to unite them. Otherwise, of course, to fight to the death was useless. Though Bearclaw had also mentioned that if it came to a fight things were not necessarily dominated by reason anymore.

Darkstone shook his head slowly, thoughtfully "You have heard Icefall. I need not. Whether Silverleaf looses or wins _I_ will not loose my group"

"If that wasn't so-"

"Then I would do it" Darkstone said without hesitation. He took the finished meat strips from the small fire and exchanged them with fresh ones, adding the roasted ones to the small pile beside the fire ring. Icefall did not return, but we could hear him and Greycloud talk and laugh softly in the other glade. The firelight there intensified, indicating the two had staked up the flames and were probably roasting more meat. I glanced over, wondering if I should get my nap after all and leave tactfully.

Darkstone read my thoughts "You _did_ _not_ walk in on us"

"So you said" I gave him a sardonic smile.

"It's not that you are…unfamiliar with such a constellation" Darkstone observed quietly "I vividly remember Digger getting into fits about us when he found out. That was the first and only time I ever saw him go scarlet"

I laughed despite myself "He hardly seems capable of blushing"

"He's a monster" Darkstone stated emphatically "Nothing's sacred for him. The odd thing is, he is the only one getting along with Silverleaf. But you have not answered my question"

"It's not that you asked, is it?" I said. I had been very much at ease with Bearclaw, the past weeks, but I had been unable to untangle the curious knot of sorrow, guilt and confusion that had formed around my life. Or rather, my former life. The one Darkstone was referring to now. Trying to come to terms with either end only seemed to wrap the strings tighter around me, threatening to strangle.

Darkstone made a sweeping gesture "We are all runaways, we wild elves, literally or figuratively. I know what it looks like, running from memories. You lost your partner, I know that, a little before we met you back then. But that is not what is haunting you now, not alone"

I frowned darkly "You're a nosy lot, you know? Let Bearclaw tell you, he knows"

"Ah, maybe. Being nosy is what keeps us alive, us scavengers. But I will not get second-hand information from Bearclaw, nor do I want to. Keep it to yourself if you like, and no offence meant"

"None taken"

The trouble was that Darkstone was right. I ran away then, I ran away now, just the directions were different. That this wild elf knew so certainly angered me.

"Has Bearclaw told you about me?" he asked suddenly. I looked at him, puzzled. I was going to say no, but abruptly facts and things fell into place. _I challenged Bearclaw._ I stared at the fire. There would be only one Darkstone. Bearclaw _had_ told me about him. The one who had escaped from Angband. Well I was not going to act the city-elf I was "Yes" I said "He did. Though I did not put it together until now"

Darkstone smiled crookedly "Well, at least you did in the end. So. What I was going to say was this. I had a partner, too, you know, before I was captured. They rounded up our whole clan – those they could not capture they slaughtered. If we did not kill ourselves before that. We were holed up in a cave – there was only one entrance. Those who were fast enough killed their partners, their children and themselves. Lehana and me were in the front, keeping the orcs back to give the others time. The orcs realized what we were doing and concentrated on taking at least those in the front alive. I don't even know what became of her" He shrugged slightly "I never found her in the mines. She was one of our fiercest fighters. Likely they killed her"

"What do you mean to say by that?" I asked finally, not wanting to say 'why are you telling me that?' He was not saying this to tell a tale. He was not saying this for compassion

"I mean" Darkstone said, focusing dark blue eyes on me "that you know what happened to your partners. It is no comfort, but some kind of certainty. At least that"

"It means I simply know for sure that I _failed_" I snapped, suddenly angry.

Darkstone sniffed "Then what should I say? I not only failed to protect her or anyone else of my clan, I also got myself captured and enslaved, and shamed me further by actually doing the work they forced me to do. No, city-elf, to me it means this: they were all fighters in their own right. Neither they nor we failed. Things happen that way. And the ones left have to figure out how to get along. I met Icefall when I had given up on the hope of ever seeing a remotely friendly face again. And there is hope in you left. You are here. You walked away from Gondolin. You could have taken the easy way out, and you didn't"

It was too absurd that he should speak of this so "Maybe it means I am just too damn cowardly to take that way you are referring to" I snarled.

Darkstone paused "Is it?"

Those cold blue eyes saw way too much. Involuntarily I dropped my gaze again, stared into the fire. I had considered Darkstone's way, yes. And I had neither found the will nor the courage. Because courage it was. Some perverse twist of fate had always kept me just a hair's breadth out of harm's way. If that had not been essentially cowardice, I don't know why I was always _behind_ the frontlines.

I flinched when I felt Darkstone's hand close over my wrist tightly. It hurt, and I looked up angrily, for a moment considering pulling back but then deciding I would lose too much dignity in such a predictable reaction. I hated being touched without notice, without permission. And the Avari's cold gaze told me Darkstone knew very well and intentionally violated that boundary.

"I have learned a number of interesting things in the mines" Darkstone said softly "Some I gleaned, and some us slaves concocted when things became unbearable. There are easy ways to die – things you drink, things you eat, painless cuts – I know all of those. But you don't need them, do you?" he added "You have the power to lay down your life as you wish, and you could sail west – but neither did you. You are still here. You don't really _want_ to die. You hate me right now for offering such a way, don't you?"

I did. I took a few deep breaths, exerting all the control I could not to pull back or smack Darkstone. He must have sensed the anger and revulsion I felt. He released me and sat back, laughing suddenly "You know, city-elf, it takes some nerves to confront you. I wondered why Bearclaw never did"

"You are mental" I spat when I could breathe around my fury again "Bastard"

"Right" Darkstone grinned "Time in the mines turns anyone mental. But tell me this – you get angry because it is tempting. And it forces you to decide yes or no. You decide no, and you are not happy with it. Yet you decided. Why? Why not die, why not sail, either?"

"What do you know of sailing? And you are still alive, too"

Darkstone shrugged "First answer: Nothing. Second answer: I dared not kill myself. So I tried to get myself killed, and it did not work. It was then I ran into Icefall. If I hadn't, I knew I would have tried again. But I was frightened. I still am. There is nothing beyond. Nothing I know or could imagine. You-" he added carefully "seem to know what comes after. Where you would go. You would have an ever so tiny chance to see them again"

It wasn't right, I thought in confusion. It wasn't right having Darkstone say those things, it wasn't right thinking that way. No, the wild elf was missing out on one little obstacle.

"You would have been looking for Lehana only" I said after a while, not knowing why I said it, to him of all the world "But the laws of the Valar are still supposed to be binding me, and by them I would be judged. And to the Valar my fёa would go. What would be the point even in dying when I know all that waits after that is more trouble? Silmarusse and I were not bound, maybe we would never find each other's fёa again. And Glorfindel's and my love was worst heresy in Valarin eyes"

Darkstone seemed to consider that for quite a while, staring at me for a moment, then dropping his gaze to the flickering blaze.

"I did not know – that" he said finally "That Valar thing. So they do exist-"

_Of course they do_ I was going to say but then stopped myself. Nothing was _of course_ here, anymore. Just that this nasty little problem of their existence – heresy again - had permeated all my life up to now did not mean anyone else ever just so much as thought about the powers in the west.

"They do exist" I said quietly, staring back across a vast expanse of years I had never fully acknowledged, never realized. Right now, it seemed like an endless grey plain to me, and every weary step from the far horizon to my current place became a dead weight "I have seen them, listened to them – broken their laws. They do exist" I took another deep breath. This mead was hard-earned, definitely "But how can you ask that, if you have served years in the mines of Morgoth himself?" That hit home. Darkstone winced but took the blow with good grace "He was never Morgoth nor any other creature to me until a few years ago, when I escaped and came into your people's lands and heard what _they_ said" the Avar answered slowly "Before that, we only knew of the shadow in the north and the dread that spread from those lands – and we knew it ate forest like wildfire in summer and spawned orcs like an ant queen lays eggs. Nothing more" He paused, looking at me thoughtfully "Valar, that is just a name and a rumour. None of my former clan knew anything of them, none of my group here is of Noldorin origin. I know nothing of them. Of what they do when your…fёar…returns to them. So. It is fear of their judgement that keeps you from turning your back on all this trouble? Or is it something else?"

When I did not answer Darkstone continued softly "I _want _to live now. I have found something to live for. But I was lucky. Lots of others are not. Is it only fear of death that keeps you alive? Or only anger?"

Darkstone's question burned in my mind. Fear of death or only anger? I seethed at his insistence. After these peaceful weeks with Bearclaw, he was scratching at defences I didn't have. Stretching patience I did not have "If it is, do not make me give in to it"

"Why are you here with Bearclaw? Do you have an answer for that?"

"He hunts orcs" I said.

"So he does" Darkstone smiled briefly "Vengeful, yes?"

"Damn well I am"

I think we were very cautious with each other the next day. We did not speak at all for a while. Things by now were self-explicit. I took my cue from the others, and making breakfast was smooth business. Afterwards, when I was with Faire who had spent the night foraging and rolling in mud, Darkstone came up to me.

"I must apologize for what I said yesterday" he said abruptly.

"No" I said slowly "In a way, you were right. I am running away"

"Anybody's right. I was wrong to make it seem as if any…sorrow could be greater or less than another"

"Maybe not-"

"No, maybe not…Still, it wasn't called for. I had no right to confront you over that. Silverleaf drives me mad. I forget myself, I suppose. Forget not everyone's going to challenge whatever I do, too. Go for people before they go for me" he smiled crookedly.

"I won't go after anyone, let alone here. I am only a city-elf and a guest here"

"Yea well" Darkstone glanced at Faire uncomfortably "I've been wondering, you know…What drives you here. Bearclaw says friend, so…See, what I really mean is this. There are thorns between your people and mine. And I know what they think of…those that escaped from Angband. If Bearclaw told you…I was wondering what you…expect of me" he shook his head "In truth, my experience with your people is as bad as with Morgoth's, in a way. I…was a bit frightened…of you"

"Now I wish you would all stop that" I murmured, thinking of Bearclaw's remarks "I know I can't be one of you rhevain, but it would be easier if you stopped tagging little signs saying 'Elda' on me"

Darkstone laughed "That needs no tagging. But you mean that? You really mean that? What drives you from your own folk?"

I leaned back against Faire "Maybe I find out if I stay here. If I am _allowed_ to stay"

Darkstone shrugged "You have no objection against me, I won't have any against you. Had anyone else, Bearclaw will fight"

I blinked "What for?"

"Your place to stay" Darkstone jabbed a finger into my chest "One thing you can take at face value from me – don't question anybody's friendship"

"I wasn't going to" I muttered.

Darkstone called for his own horse, giving him a cursory brush "We are going north tonight. It is three days to the Cave Wall with horses. What about Caltor?"

"Huh?"

"Caltor" Darkstone swung the saddle-pad over his horse's back "That's the rhevain form of Gildor. Welcome to Hawk Clan, hm?"


	17. Chapter 17 Kelehan

**Kelehan**

K'ashi's POV

Orocarni, FA 542

In the beginning, Khai'la had asked me if I would name Hurondil in our words. I had then not known enough to give him a good name, but that changed quickly. When Mai'ashi grew and was fine on her own for some time we continued hunting and scouting. Hurondil had good eyes, better than any one of us, even she who was called Owl. Every hunting group tried to get him to go with them. Though his nose was bad, he saw far and sharp, even in bright day. And so I finally found my name for him. Kelehan, sharp-eyes.

He was a firm part of wolf-clan now, even had his real clan-name. But sun-courses went round and round, and he still had no mate. I wondered if he did not want one, or dared not, because we were so different still. Maybe, I thought, he was frightened, because we all could change. Maybe there was no one he found attractive. But he liked Khai'la, and she liked him. Mai'ashi was grown, and Khai'la no longer bound by her wish to raise her cub with me. I thought she should court Kelehan. But I did not want to tell her, because she had a fierce temper if people told her things she did not like to hear. She was intrigued by him, she had learned his words – and she had learned them better than I – and they spent much time with each other. I decided to wait.

Then I found out that he was the one who held back. To my eyes, Khai'la was plain enough. She was doing things wolf-way. She just did not say it in so many words. Which, I thought to myself, was the trouble. I had learned that with Kelehan you had to use words. Some gestures that were obvious to my clanmates simply fell flat with him. I said "You know his people take only one mate in their life?"

Khai'la glanced at me "Are you mad?"

"No, he said they do"

"Yes, but he is _here_ now"

"That he is. Maybe you should tell him that again, and say we cannot wait a hundred years to father one cub and then never do it again?"

Khai'la grunted "Maybe you should tell him? _Ashk'nor_?"

I snorted "Easy way"

One morning, Kelehan burst into my shelter. He smacked up the mat before the opening and shook me.

"Khai'la is gone!"

I growled. It was bright day, I had been hunting and just gone to sleep in the grey of dawn. My eyes watered in the blinding light. It took a moment until his words registered with my brain "Of course"

"Of course? Khai'la is gone!"

He was on the way out. I woke enough to grab his arm and pull him back. I pushed myself up on my elbows and blinked. Only Kelehan could wake you in the middle of shining day, shouting.

"Of course she is gone. And don't you go after her now. This is our way. _Her_ way"

"But what if something goes _wrong_?"

"Won't" I sat up and released him when I was sure he would not jump up and run out "Wouldn't have gone alone otherwise"

"How can you know-" he started out, then broke off and coloured. I grinned, let my hair fall before my face to hide it, and reached for a metal pot with water. We had only one, and if anyone needed it, it was either found with Kelehan, Onakir or me. Because Kelehan always had his fire wherever he went. And if he went anywhere, he was with one of us. Therefore also, I had a rubble of wood here. I pushed it towards him as well.

"Here" I said "Make one your dreadful fires and put this in the water and drink. And by the black wolf's fur, calm down"

I went over to Nightchaser's place and fetched one of the two mugs we currently had. Kelehan had shifted the wood in a small heap and was fighting with flint and tinder. The only one who carried things around with him. In a small – what did he call it, bag – on his belt. We heated the water and he put the herbs in. The last of the fragrant stuff. I hated it. Kelehan loved it.

I stretched, looked around, and reached for a piece of meat that remained from this night's prey. If he could have his smelling herbs, I could have my raw meat "Now. What are you making this racket for? You knew she would do this"

"No"

I glanced at him, and sighed "Didn't say?"

"No"

"Well, I tell you. Bit late, though. That is her way. And it isn't her first cub, as you just remembered"

"What if…if we…"

"If something goes wrong because you are khai'toh and she wolf clan?"

Kelehan shrugged uneasily.

"There's no way but to find out"

"That's what Khai'la said"

"Well – wise"

I chewed, and he sipped his tea. We waited.

"Sorry for waking you" Kelehan said with a wry smile when I kept yawning. It was near sun-down when Khai'la came to my shelter. Purposefully again, knowing Kelehan would be here. She held a bundle. We both followed it with our eyes like wolves follow a tossed bone as she sat down with us. She gave it to Kelehan, and he took it, staring at it as if spell-bound. Whatever they had feared might go wrong, it had been empty fear. The cub gave our faces hovering above a toothless grin.

"How will you name him?" I asked curiously.

"Niy'ashi" she said without hesitation "And you?"

Kelehan gaped. Obviously not what he had bargained for. Khai'la smiled. I took pity on him.

"Wolf clan gives two names. It is seldom that each partner would give the same name. Khai'la has given hers"

Kelehan was silent a long while "I would…give a name of…the people I came from. If that is acceptable"

Khai'la cocked her head expectantly, waiting. Never saying too much.

"Well?" I said.

Kelehan licked his lips "Fingal"

"Come" Khai'la got up. Kelehan followed, then they waited outside. Kelehan turned "You come, too"

I blinked "No!...They will think we didn't know who is the father" I added. Both Khai'la and I snorted with laughter, answered from the bundle she held. The corners of Kelehan's mouth twitched "You are ashk'nor. You are my brother. Without you, I would never have come here"

I looked at him, standing there tall and unpainted beside Khai'la. We went out, stood in the bright, warm afternoon sun, our hands joined in holding the writhing bundle. Khai'la and I started to howl. Kelehan, too shy, joined in when we were well under way and his unsteadier voice did not stick out so much. No one would have been bothered, likely not even noticed. The wolves around us joined in happily, and as always, the clan gathered quickly, curiously. This time, there was more uproar, greater curiosity. This would be celebrated. It was the first time we celebrated something with fire. A small one, if you asked Kelehan, but as far as we and the furred ones were concerned, a mighty blaze.

Chapter notes:

Mai'ashi: "silver wolf"


	18. Chapter 18 War of Wrath

**War of Wrath**

Gildor's POV

During the War of Wrath

The earth bucked, and we ran, unheeding of where we went. The orcs seemed to have been vomited straight from the earth. We killed five of the original force that ambushed us, but this was pretty hopeless. Squirrel went down. I saw it, but could not get to him. Ten orcs, and the two of us. Me, as it seemed.

"Squirrel!"

Another orc came at me, and then four more. I went down under their weight, and my sword was wrenched from my grip. I had lost my dagger before, so I could only kick and bite, but it just served to amuse them.

"Kicking little beast" one of them sneered, pulling me to my feet. They tied my hands before me and pushed me forward. Some gathered up the limp form of Squirrel, but we did not go far.

"Camp" their leader ordered, and the orcs set to arranging a fire and settling down with their pack. Their leader dragged me with him over to where they had dumped Squirrel.

"I ordered to take them alive, didn't I" he demanded furiously. The orc in question cowered back "Too strong" he hissed "We could not"

"Next time it's your head"

My heart was pounding so fast it was painful. I could imagine what was in store, and whatever courage I had seemed to fall in on itself. I screamed Squirrel's name, repeatedly, regardless of what the orc snarled. Squirrel did not stir. I knew he was dead but it was impossible to acknowledge that. The orc-leader roared for help, and with two others manoeuvred me backward until I felt a tree behind me. Panic gave me enough strength to drive them back and throw all three into chaos, but they were too strong and too many. One of them got hold of my hair and jerked me down. They pinned me roughly, and then dragged me up again when they had a hold on me, driving me back against the tree. Their leader was large enough to push my arms over my head and drive his dagger between the tight bonds, no matter how much I twisted and kicked. With a few swift strikes he had slashed my shirt, not caring if he cut deeper than the fabric. He, too, was panting, though probably not in fear.

I knew the hate he felt for me equalled mine, only that helped little. He stood close before me, stinking, but his shrewd eyes roamed over me expectantly and finally he met my gaze, sneering "Stinking of fear, little elf?"

"Not worse than you" I managed to wheeze. He snarled, pushing his dagger against my throat, but then trailing the notched blade painfully down my chest and belly. He stopped at my belt. I could feel blood trickling down my skin, but the pain seemed far away "Don't squeal, do you? Should cut deeper, maybe?"

I clenched my fists and used the bonds as lever, kicking him backward. A surge of hate helped me to twist and jerk. The tight strings cut into my wrists, but then the dagger gave out. I fell forward and smacked my tied hands into the orc's face as he lunged for me. Stunned, he fell back. Had we been alone, I might have escaped then, but the others, watching and jeering, quickly moved in. One struck me a blow to the head, and for a moment I was as stunned as the orc-leader had been a moment ago. I tasted blood and coughed as they pinned me on my back again. There was a blinding flash of pain as their leader cut through my belt, grazing my hipbone when he slipped. He jerked my leggings down, cutting and slashing at the fabric until it gave way. Wild panic seized me. I roared and bucked between them, shaking the orcs off once more. I caught another slash across my back, then they had me again and I was back against the tree. The orc's mottled grey face was inches from mine. He had driven his dagger through the bonds on my wrists again, and I was not sure if he had not impaled my arm in the business. It sure felt like it. One more time I would not have the strength to pull free. My head spun.

"There's sure some fight in you" he hissed. There was blood on his nose where I had smacked him "Heightens the fun, right?"

I almost gagged at his foul breath. I gathered a mouthful of blood and spittle and spat at him. That earned me another smack to the side of my head, then I froze, feeling the orc's hand on my sex. He gripped, painfully, pressing the tip of his dagger to my throat at the same time. It drew blood, but I hardly noticed it. I almost strangled on my own gasping breath. They said we could lay down our lives if we so willed. What had to happen, I wondered, that I would try that? As things looked, I was perilously close to finding out. And despite the raw pain my cursed body reacted.

The orc grunted something, but the words passed my fogged brain by. With a cold slip, the blade of the dagger was gone from throat. The orc let me go, but only to force me around, my back to him. Pain shot through my arms, and I could feel his dagger scratch down my back. It came to rest between my ribs with a warning pressure.

"It's a slow death, drowning on your own blood" he whispered hoarsely "If you don't care to try it, be still now" His hand moved to the cleft between my buttocks, pressing deeper. Rage and panic made me gag. I did not know what I did, or if anything I did was of consequence. I heard a scream, dimly, as if far away. The orc was crushed against me, I felt more than heard him gag, too, painfully. Then he slid to the ground. Uproar seized the orc-camp, arrows whizzed. Someone cut me loose and caught me before I fell. A bit of reason returned and I gasped.

"Silverleaf"

He half dragged half carried me through the fray until I was enough in control to use my legs. We stumbled through the dark forest for indeterminate time, then Silverleaf halted. I clung to him, feeling his own breath come hard after our flight. I hurt all over, and shame nearly strangled me. The wild elf crept into a thicket, pulling me along what appeared to be a low path. We came out into a comparatively open space, roofed and surrounded on all sides by high bushes.

"It's alright" Silverleaf gasped "The others manage. They know where I went, they will find us"

I could not speak for a long while, could hardly breathe. Silverleaf held me tight against him, rocking slightly.

"He is dead. By now they will be all dead"

"Squirrel is dead" I gasped after a moment "It is my fault he's killed"

"No" Silverleaf snapped harshly "No one's fault. We all know the risk we take"

He searched me over, and it was all I could do to clutch the arm that held me and not scream. He wrapped me in his cloak and pulled me back against him. I heard the others return, their soft voices and movements. Silverleaf shook me back into reality at some point, pressing a cup to my lips "Drink this"

I didn't care what it was. I just obeyed and then squeezed my eyes shut again.

The next time I came back to myself was screaming and fighting. I woke out of sheer desperation when the clutching did not cease. Silverleaf crouched over me, trying to keep a grip on my wrists. I fell back with a gasp when I recognized him, panting.

"Heavens" He released me "I have to change the bandages. Don't knock me out"

"What-" I looked down myself, then at him as he untied the linen bindings on my arms "What happened? Aside from…"

Silverleaf paused, then blessedly decided to speak coolly "He had no time to take you, my friend. I killed him with his own spear. You are left with at least fifteen cuts of various depths, a stab that was short of your lungs, and two sprained wrists. His knife was too broad and wedged between your ribs, but without breaking them. Thank the Valar that you are what you are or I would guess you were dead now after all. And you were asleep a whole night and a day"

He moved down further, checking various bruises. I could not separate single pains from the long one that still seemed to be my body.

"The…others?"

"Hunting, scouting, guarding. There is another hollow a crawl further than this. We can stay here a while…That's a deep one"

Silverleaf reached for a small pot which smelled strongly of herbs, rubbing some salve into the cut across my hip.

"Don't touch me there" I begged before I could restrain myself. Silverleaf caught my hand "I have to. Lie down" His tone was so commanding that I actually obeyed, though I dug my hands into the loose dead leaves covering the ground.

"Gildor"

I finally opened my eyes and met his gaze.

He held out a wooden bowl "Eat something"

Once more, I obeyed, because there was nothing else to do. My body had betrayed me once, there was no reason to think anymore. I fell asleep after finishing the stew, without actually tasting what I had eaten. The next time I woke indifference was not so merciful. I remembered very well what had happened, how it happened. And that I had been lucky. Incredibly lucky. My mind filled in the time from the moment Squirrel and me had found us surrounded until now. But now I was alone. Relieved, I lay for a while more, slowly acknowledging that I lived while Squirrel was dead. 'We all know the risk we take' Silverleaf had said. Did we? Had Squirrel? Had I? Rationally, yes. But now? Embarrassment warred with guilt and shame until Silverleaf's arrival shook me out of that battle. He brought cold meat for us both, a water-skin and new salve. We ate in silence. Dimly, I was aware that the ground shivered. When I looked at Silverleaf he shrugged.

"Goes on for a while. You know it never stopped the last years. Redflame traded with some Avari yesterday. They say in the western hills rifts have opened in some places. The elves there heard similar things from other parts. We will move east as soon as you can travel swiftly. Let me look at those cuts again. There was poison on the blades"

I let him check the binding on my wrists and chest, but then stopped him. Silverleaf shook his head "Not a chance"

I grabbed his arm hard enough that he flinched "No" I repeated.

"Yes" he said calmly "Because if you don't let me now, you won't let anyone else, ever"

My restraint snapped but I could not decide if to pull him closer or push him away "How do you want to know that? It's not your business"

"Business, no. But know, I do" Silverleaf said "And now let me go"

"Get away from me!"

"Only after you let me treat that. _Lie_ _back_"

I had no weapon. Both my sword and my dagger lay too far away. Maybe that was good, because I was not sure what I would have done had I reached them. This way, Silverleaf could push me down without resistance because my still fogged mind was simply unable to find an alternative.

"Look at me" he whispered, and only then I realized I had shut my eyes tightly, unable to breathe "This is me" Silverleaf said calmly "I won't hurt you. I can't even hurt you. I won't touch you any deeper than that orc ever did"

"Don't…at all" I managed to get out, clutching at his hand that still rested on my chest.

"Listen to me" Silverleaf said after a moment "I know what I am asking right now. And I know why I am asking that. I was in that same situation, years ago. Only it was men, and not orcs. I admit that makes a difference, but they went a step further"

Panting, I stared at him "No…"

"I don't know...how often they had their fun" he said coolly "But they left me for dead when Darkstone's group attacked them. He had a grievance with them for sure. Greycloud found me and took me with him. I awoke about four days later, wishing I was dead. The rest in the group never found out what had happened to me. Greycloud had some...call it experience in the matter. He stayed with me until I was as back to normal as he thought I would get. But he taught me one thing. And that is if you don't allow touch right afterwards, it will get impossible later. And I am talking as healer now, not as your friend"

I simply continued staring at him "I didn't know-"

"Nor do the others. See that it stays that way. And now relax and let me treat those cuts"

I wasn't sure where I took the willpower to lie still as Silverleaf washed out the cuts on my hip and legs. I had still been half-drugged when he had done it the first time, but I wasn't now. Also, I was dressed at the moment so he had to push down my leggings to reach the wounds. The pain of the stinging salve completely lost its meaning, I was only aware of his touch on my thighs, my groin. I would have bucked him off the moment he finished with the salve had he not quickly leaned over me and pushed me down with his weight.

"Look at me" he demanded once more. Caught between fury and terror I obeyed again, but only because my pride made me. I saw that orc's leering face before me, filling my vision. I would never forget that smell, so close-.

"Gildor, don't look away"

There was a note of desperation in Silverleaf's voice that broke through the wall of fear around me.

"You must realize that it is over. The orcs are dead. That one can't touch you ever again. This is me. It is only my hand that touches you"

I could feel him reach down, lay his hand lightly over my sex. I clutched at his arm across my chest. With an enormous effort I managed not to scream or to look away.

"Breathe!"

I gasped, realizing I had caught my breath too long. For a moment we lay like this, staring at each other. Though I sucked in breath after ragged breath I could seem to get no air. I was far too terrified that I could have responded to his touch, even had he done more than just putting his hand there.

"City elf, calm down. Nothing is going to happen"

I closed my eyes desperately. This time though I managed to calm my breath a little.

"Good" Silverleaf withdrew and sat up. His weight vanished from my chest, but he let his hand rest there.

"Could you bear that again?" he demanded when I finally looked at him. My heart raced so fast I was shaking. It was a while before I found the power to nod, once.

"Good" he smiled briefly "Because I have to rewrap those cuts, too"

Two days passed. Silverleaf made me move into the main clearing under the thickets. The others of the group did not address the orc-incident when speaking to me directly, but spoke freely among themselves, of the brief fight, that they had burned the orcs and Squirrel's body, and about whatever they had picked up in the past scouting rounds. They did not ask me what exactly had happened or how I felt, which made it far easier to find back to normal routine. It needed no agreement that I would see to the small camp under the thickets while the others hunted and scouted. Silverleaf continued to treat my wounds, and I was relieved that the cuts closed quickly and only the deep slash across my hip left a scar. Though I could soon bear his touch without flinching and we shared a rain-shelter at night tension grew between us. One day I held him back before he could follow the others out of our hiding.

"There are things we must clear" It came out more harshly than I had wanted and I added "Please. I cannot bear it like this"

Silverleaf dropped his eyes "I love you as a friend" he said finally, softly "But I also desire you. This…situation has not made it easier. For either of us, I assume"

"No" I said at length "It is not that I do not return your love. Or your desire" I took a breath "You deserve more than I could give at the moment. Maybe ever. You deserve all of myself. If I gave anything, it could not be less than that. I…I would only disappoint you as lover. As friend, I can maybe give more than you expect. Do not wait for me, Silverleaf. Maybe hope can be enough that it might change. That I might change"

Silverleaf gave a small smile "I knew you would say something like this. I think I will tell you nothing new when I say that among us rhevain we can not always hold that high standard. But I will not propose that to you, and it is not what I would want either. But well, it is better out than never said. I will not wait for you. But I will keep hope, my friend"

Then the rumbling in the earth which we had got so used to over the past years increased, to the point that it never stopped. At times, the ground shook so suddenly and so hard that we lost our balance. Birds flew in wedges as if the great migrations of spring and autumn had already begun, but it was barely midsummer yet. Which did not mean it was warm. Great storms ravaged the lands, drenching us in rain and sleet the one time, passing over with roaring thunder and lightning without a drop of water the next. One night we spent huddled together like dormouse under the wild elves' light shelters which we had to cling to unless they were ripped away by the gales. Trees crashed down in the forest, and we half feared to get smashed if one of the ancient tree-giants should fall in our direction. Our thicket was left nearly undamaged, but the next day we broke camp and fled east with the birds and other forest-dwellers. Great clouds roiled in the sky, and sometimes lightning would snake out from the whirls. It did not strike the earth, but it seemed a question of time to us until it would. The earth bucked and shook so we were flung to hands and knees repeatedly. We did not rest or hunt and only moved steadily east. We passed or were overtaken by other elves as well occasionally. A group Avari from the coast brought the most frightening news we heard. They had lived at the edge of the Taur-im-Duinath and told that the sea had come in to drown part of the forest. They had fled east and barely managed to cross the Gelion, which had risen to twice its depth and breadth. Many of them had been drowned in that crossing. Frightened by those news we fled together like hunted beasts until we reached and climbed the Ered Luin. There we nearly foundered in the snowstorms that descended without visible warning. I had no map but estimated we would be near Belegost, yet there were neither dwarves nor traces of them to be seen. We gave up the hope to find help there and scrambled around in the mountains, looking for a pass. Finally we conceded we would have to manage without one. Stuck up on the open cliffs we felt like beetles waiting for the birds to pick them off. The Avari, forest-dwellers all their lives, proved no help here, but faithful companions when Desert crashed through the surface of a treacherous ice-field. They had ropes, and tying them all into one and scrabbling for handholds on the ice we managed to get him out, nearly unhurt though shocked. We were hungry and cold, but the Avari suffered the most. They had fled from the lowlands with the barest provisions and no clothes for the high mountains at all. We shared clothes, provisions and prey, and the desperation of the days absurdly enough helped me to forget the orcs much more effectively than any exertion of will.

We almost believed the end of Arda was come, that the land would fall into smoking ruin around and with us. Avalanches and landslides often descended, in the surrounding mountains as well as coming down on our heads with only the slightest warning. One day, when we finally crested the highest peak we had been able to see and realized we were really over the range's height, another thing shook us to the core.

"What is that?" one of the Avari cried, pointing north. Birds seemed to wheel there, in great, roiling clouds as if of a great burning. We stood and stared, but it was a while until we realized it was not birds we saw but a single thing.

"What is it?" Silverleaf whispered, clutching me as I stared, mesmerized "Gildor?"

"A dragon" I said softly "A winged dragon"

There was a stunned silence in the group.

"Down there" the Avarin leader said "If that comes here, we should not be stuck out like sheep on a meadow"

We stumbled down the mountains flank, shooting frightened looks to the north. But though the clouds widened and encroached on the lands the dragon did not come here. We lost sight of it as we descended, and spent the following night in that valley, sleeping only fitfully though we had not rested for days. The mountains rumbled, and a dreadful shivering went through the whole range. We leaped up when thunder itself seemed to march the land, vibrating air and earth alike.

"We'll get buried alive here" Silverleaf muttered. We fled the valley in the grey dawn, but it took two more days of constant terror until we left the shaking and groaning mountains behind. We plunged into the forests east of them. There a number of Avari had sought refuge already. Though we were rhevain, we were welcomed and cared for as if we were clansmen as well. After two days of rest we took leave of our erstwhile companions who were going to stay with the local elves, and moved on east alone. Though the shaking of the earth and the storms appeared to be slightly less on this side of the mountains we were eager to put distance between us and the peaks.

"If these cliffs slide" Silverleaf predicted darkly, looking back "Their forest is shaved off the land in an eye-blink"

It was past midsummer now, and we gathered berries and nuts as we went, but there was no chance to lay up supplies. All was eaten as it was gathered. Within weeks we crossed one river and then another, and finally crept ashore like drowned rats and decided to stay where we were a while. We had come into deep forest again. The land was slightly rolling but offered no inhabitable caves we could have used for winter. We settled under the mighty trunk of a fallen tree which had buried a hollow beneath it. We wove twigs into a makeshift wall on one side and would use the rhevain shelters to close the other side when the weather turned nasty. We met no orcs, saw not even traces of them. Leaving always two of us to guard the shelter we now managed to gather more nuts and roots, smoke meat and fish, and dry berries and mushrooms. From outlaws to hamsters, Silverleaf said, surveying the four hastily woven baskets that held our entire store. At least we could sleep again, and the heavy rains did not drench us to the skin. If trees would fall in this forest, we thought, at least they would not squash us right away, with the great trunk as our roof.

It was later that year, when the leaves were starting to fall, that more elves came from the west. The forests are gone, they said, distraught. The sea rushed in, and in the south was at the foot of the Ered Luin now. Rivers had risen until the whole land had become a plain of water. Smokes had drawn a blanket from the north to the south, and all was rumbling and shaking. If you stood on the highest peak, you could see the sea below you.

Another moon passed until Star, scouting far ahead, returned early, riding his horse at a gallop through the trees. He dismounted and came to kneel beside Silverleaf and me as we sat stringing mushrooms on a line to dry.

"Silverleaf" he regained his breath "Caltor. There is word you might want to hear. I heard city elves talking. I do not speak the language, but I will repeat what I heard. They said…'the war is decided. The jewels are gone, and the oath ended. I summon the Eldar to the western shores. Take ship. Return with us. Then the doom will be lifted. I, Eonwe herald of Manwe speak'"

I could feel Silverleaf going as still as I was. And so we heard the summons of Eonwe from a wild elven Avar who did not even speak the language of the words he had repeated to us.

"Thank you, Star" Silverleaf said after a moment with a visible effort "Indeed we wanted to hear that. I…can tell you what it is about…in a while"

Star nodded and got up "I will return to my post. Is there word you want to have them? Because I think I was not meant to overhear what they said"

Silverleaf smiled crookedly "No, there is no word to take back"

"What will you do?" he asked me after a while. I shook my head slowly "I…I will not go. I have never been far east, but I will not go west either"

"I don't want to, either" Silverleaf said thoughtfully "Not now. Not if we can still, later…" he trailed off.

"The war is decided…" The words took a while to sink in "Silverleaf, do you see what that means?"

He looked up at me slowly.

"The Valar have done this. They must have. It was a war, all this. It was their war. The dark lord must be gone"

"Gone?" Silverleaf asked softly "Really gone, or just defeated?"

"I don't know"

'_I summon the Eldar to the western shore_…' I closed my eyes and felt terribly weary for a moment.

"Maybe you should go" Silverleaf whispered "Maybe after what happened..."

"Hush" I took his hands "If I had to go for a touch in the wrong place, what more would you have to do, my friend?"

He actually smiled "You would call me Elda just because my parents were. But I am no more Elda than Star or Darkstone. I have been born in the darkness here, and I will live with it for a while more"

"I wished things were different" I said after a while "I really wish. For us both"

Silverleaf shook his head "Then hope, as you counselled me. And let us string these mushrooms. We will rue it this winter if we don't"

8


	19. Chapter 19 Flight to the North

**Flight to the North**

K'ashi's POV

Orocarni, Northern Waste, FA 546

There came a sun-course when Niy'ashi was grown and long since able to change. It was a strange time, because we felt the earth shake, sometimes, and great storms passed over the lands, driven from the west. They brought only thunder and lightning, seldom rain. It was cold, but also dry and lightning set forests ablaze. Many things came east, furred mostly, but unfurred too, slowly. We noticed, but could never find a cause. For a while, we had more prey than before. But the earth continued to shiver, to shake and rumble, and stones fell from the mountains.

It was a bright, warm day in the season of _khai'osha_, and almost all of Wolf Clan were asleep. The orcs came upon us in a narrow valley, unguarded and at unawares. All we could do was get up and run. They did not even look as if they were coming for us specifically. But once we were sighted, they gave chase. All who could called the change, but there were a few who had cubs already, and they could not fur without abandoning their cubs. The wolves and furred ones gathered around to defend them. Two were wounded by what Kelehan grimly called cross-bow bolts, but we all could flee. For two days we had been unwary, using the narrow valley as protection to do the dance of the swift season. As we fled out of the valley, we found there were orcs everywhere. We ran northwards, along the mountains, but they trailed us. They followed us, or maybe not, I was not sure. They came down out of the mountains wherever we went, and we could seldom rest for more than a day before our guards warned us of pursuit. With the unfurred ones among us we were slow and left visible tracks. Two cubs died in that flight, because the weather turned cold and wet, and it grew ever colder the further we came north. Hin'yan, who had been hit in the hip by one of the bolts, lagged behind. She had fled with us with the thing still stuck in her bone. Onakir tried to heal the wound, but Kelehan said there had been poison on the bolts. They could do little, and we were still fleeing. One day, as we were passing through another narrows gorge, she disappeared. We noticed only after we had all left the gorge, because we had been all strung out into a line. Khaniru her mate came back to us, running as wolf.

"Go on" he said, and we followed him, running. When the night left once more, we halted in a valley, and Khaniru said we would have a time to rest. Hin'yan had remained behind to kill some of the orcs that followed us.

She had called the Other Wind. In silence, we set a few to watch, and spent two nights huddled in that valley, hiding, sleeping. There was no time, no place to do the Hawk Dance yet. We went north again. Snow fell more often. This was the time when cubs were born, a warm season back at our old home. We were forced to stop thrice whenever a birth was near. Like the great oxen against the wolves, we formed a ring of defense, and hoped for the best. One of our clan died when her child would not come and a blizzard caught us in the open plain. Onakir nearly died as well, trying to save her by calling her spirit back. The wolves suffered, too. They would not leave us, and so they abandoned their cubs that were born on the way, hastening on. Those unfurred who still had their own cubs and went two-legged gathered what of the furred ones they could and carried them in their arms.

We were far north and in the nights the sleet turned to snow when we found another valley, more of a gorge, in which we wedged ourselves. We were desperate, half-starved and exhausted. Many females were pregnant and unlike the wolves, we had no measure of postponing or quickening a birth. Any herbs Onakir might have found we had left far behind already – we had to stop. Khai'la too carried a cub. Kelehan was tormented. In times of war, he had quoted to me, his people never fathered children. Children, a term my people did not even have. We distinguished between furred and unfurred ones, but not between wolves' offspring and our's, not between us and the wolves, the always furred ones. He was tormented now, because of that quote. He feared for Khai'la, for their cub, and this time with a reason. I, too, feared.

"This is not a good time for cubs" he said desperately that day as we huddled in the valley. All of us were in a heap, silent, shifting a little sometimes to let those from the edge move to the centre. The outer ring was formed by the wolves, keeping the stiff, icy wind away from us. And still, Khai'la disappeared when the time to give birth came. She returned in the middle of driving snow, a wolf following her. She had gone off furred, a rag of rawhide in her fangs. Now she was unfurred in the storm, her hair whipping with the gusts. We saw her coming, Niy'ashi and I, and Kelehan bowed his head for a moment in relief. Had the cub died, or been born dead, she would have had no reason to return unfurred. We huddled around her, the wolf pushing between us. As we always did, we howled, and the clan joined in. For a moment, the sound carried above the wind. This cub did not smile or twitch, but watched us silently with dark grey eyes.

"What say you?" I asked softly as we fell silent.

"This is not a good time for cubs" she said, unknowingly echoing Kelehan's desperate announcement, but she said it darkly, defiantly "But this one is strong. He will have to be" she fixed us with a dark look "I can not afford what I want to. There are too few unhindered hunters here"

It was the only instance she said she regretted being unable to raise her cub this time as she had done the last two times. Like the wolves, she moved on with such things as regret if things could not be changed.

"I am with the cubs anyway" Niy'ashi spoke up the first time today "I will carry him"

Khai'la looked at him, then nodded. Kelehan looked as if he wanted to object, but then remained silent. He, too, was needed, not so much as a hunter but in the front. When we went across the empty plains here, or had them to the side as we skirted mountains, we needed his sharp eyes more than the wolves' noses. The cruel, strong wind killed most scents before they reached us, let alone before we could follow them. Kelehan saw herds far away, led the hunters there.

"How will you name him?" Niy'ashi, whose name in my words meant Laughing Wolf, watched his brother in fascination.

"Kela'shin" Khai'la pulled the wolf closer who crouched beside her and the bundle "She licked him clean" she said "But his luck will be with the wolves"

Rising Storm. A very different name. A very different place to be born. I shivered in the wind-driven snow. Kelehan bit his lip. He was shaking miserably. A wolf had died on the march here, and we had taken the skin as always. The youngest cubs were wrapped already, and without the least objection it had gone to Kelehan, who was most defenseless against the cold. Despite the fur, he was suffering. He had always kept some distance to the wolves, but in the past moons, he had given that up completely. When we rested, he cowered in the middle of our circle, surrounded by the wolf-cubs and those of us who could fur.

We all looked at him, waiting for his name. He shook his head slowly "You have given him the best name I could think of"

"Do you care to unriddle your words for us?" Khai'la asked, smiling.

"I…my name…I only now thought of this….K'ashi-" he glanced at me. Kelehan's name? Then I understood "You never told Khai'la?"

"She never asked. It never was important, either"

Khai'la and Niy'ashi watched us with patient curiosity "Hurondil in our words means…nok-a-shin, I think" I said.

"Paka" Kelehan said dryly.

"Oh" I had to grin. His people distinguished very diligently between friend and lover "Yes. Paka"

After that blizzard we were no longer followed. We were in the ever-snows now, traveling slowly east along a low range of hills. They gave us cover, and gradually our situation became less desperate. We could cope with the cold much better now that we could rest when we needed, could stage greater hunts and make larger prey. But it was only every three or four days that there was prey. We often had to walk to the kill because it was not possible to carry it to the clan. As the wolves did, we carried meat back with us to feed those who had stayed behind with the cubs.

There was no fire here. Grimacing, Kelehan ate the flesh raw and drank the blood of fresh kills as all the rest of us did. The hunters were gone for days on end often. The other half of our clan remained behind to guard those who could not fur. Khai'la returned only to suckle her cub. The rest of the time, Niy'ashi carried his brother. When Khai'la did not come on time, and the cub screamed with hunger, Niy'ashi did as I had done when we had found Hurondil. He cut his wrist, and fed him on his own blood.

Many of the cubs that were born then, in the spring that had become eternal winter, died, furred and unfurred. The furred ones took the meat, and we took the furs of their dead offspring. It was not a good time. One night, as I crouched beside Niy'ashi with the unfurred ones and the cubs, I remembered the old tales. Tales of the Ice. Wolf clan had fled from the old wood in the very beginning once, before we could fur. With the wolves, they had come to the ever-snows. But there were the dark creatures that had driven them from the old wood as well. With the wolves, they fled, were captured, and escaped. Here, somewhere in the ice, they became what we were now.

And here we were and miserable.

Niy'ashi laughed when I said that, as he often did. He was one of the few who still had energy and courage to laugh.

"We'll make it now, then, as we did at that time"

A few days later, it seemed he was right, because the last storms ceased. We followed the valley of half-frozen a river into the hills, and the snows became less. Spring, we thought, had found us at last. And it had. We stayed a few moons in that valley, but we did not know that land. The hunters still had to range very far. We could eat only meat, because there were neither trees nor shrubs here we knew. Only when we went further into the mountains and came into another valley we found trees again. It was deeper cut than the first, and no great river flowed through it, but it felt much closer to our home in the eastern mountains. In that valley we stayed until the snows returned, and through the next snows. There was shelter there, though no caves. Also, great fish migrated before the snows, and we caught uncounted ones of them. Kelehan could make fire here, and we smoked part of them, dried the rest. About the same time, which must have corresponded to osha'sa in our home, there were berries here. Large and red or blue they grew on grass-like brushes and on bushes. Bears were here, but they left us alone and we avoided them. Sometimes, we fought for a catch, and once we even killed a bear. Several cubs could sleep warmly in that skin afterwards. When the next snows came, we were much better off. We had supplies, and the pressure on the hunters was far less. In khai'osha, when it finally came there were no cubs. In a way, I realized, we had done what Kelehan's former people did.

We moved on in the snowless time, looking for caves. The mountains did not end, and we followed them northeast. It was the first time of my life then that I saw white wolves, the white wolves of which our tales told. Not even Kelehan saw them coming towards us across the white space the first time, when we left the valley and found the snow in the open took longer to melt. We were frightened at first, and drew together. If this was their territory we would be in trouble. The wolves that had come with us, grey and black, starkly visible in the snow, we called to us and took them into the middle. But, maybe because this land was so wide and empty, we were not attacked. In fact, they greeted the furred ones of us friendly, and inspected the unfurred ones without fear. We were accepted with mild astonishment. After a while, when we furred, we were allowed to come closer to them. We learned from them to better hunt the great beasts. The white ones had the advantage of their coats in the snow, but when the snows receded, our darker pelts showed us less and them more.

Before the next snows came, we found a valley with caves. Grateful and relieved, we moved in there, and hurried like the bears to gather supplies for the snow-season. Again, it was berries, fish and meat. Now a few nuts and roots as well. We were well off that snow-time, and it was then that many of us finally learned to make a fire like Kelehan did. In the caves, we were safe, and we were happy. When the snows ceased once more, there were cubs again.

Life was not altogether bad, though harder than before. Niy'ashi did not enjoy this land here. His brother, though, three sun-courses old by then, knew only this land and liked it, unquestioning. When we told him of the land from which we had fled, where we wanted to return to once, he shrugged and said "Why?"

"Because it is warm there" Niy'ashi said "And there are nights there that are as warm as the hottest days here"

"Because" I added "There the seasons follow each other as they should, and here it is only ever cold"

To which Kela'shin replied nothing, storing that away, and then turning his attention to the things at hand. Playing with us, eating, hunting fish in the clear, cold river. He was a skinny, silent cub who, as Khai'la had remarked the night of his birth, was with the wolves more often than with the cubs of his own age. He made no distinction between our clan-mates and the larger white ones. The packs changed, too. They mated with each other, and had cubs. Life was not as bad as it had seemed in the beginning. We were alone here with the white wolves, the bears and a few birds, and with signs that other creatures had been here, once. In the caves, there were _akhai_ on the walls. Some showed beings we recognized: unfurred ones, wolves, bears, birds, and the horned ones. Others showed beings we guessed must live far away. We had no names for them. A few, Kelehan named. Whales, he called some, dragons, others. I found him staring at the _akhai_ on the walls sometimes. Dragons, he finally said, had come flying across the mountains his people had sheltered in, and set the stone-shelter build there ablaze.

We stayed in those northern lands. Sometimes we thought we should try and go back, but we never got to it. We were busy living, finding out things about this land, learning to live here, and there were no deaths anymore. The clan had neither grown nor shrunk. Losses had been assuaged by cubs. But they took time to grow, and both Shinosh and Kes had died in hunts, when the great oxen had caught them on their horns. Five cubs had died on our flight here. More had died in the very first hard winters.

Five sun-courses long we spent in the winters in that valley, and many of our hunters ventured into the snow-plains during the short summers. Then we discovered a valley further east along the mountain-range which went back south deep into the mountains. There were caves there, too, and prey-animals that stayed there all year round. We moved there, and went as far south into the long valley as we yet dared. The winter appeared slightly less severe. Kela'shin had survived, all the eight sun-courses near and in the ever-snows, one of the three cubs that had been born during our flight and had lived. While Niy'ashi had his father's hair and temper but amber eyes like Khai'la, Kela'shin had the shiny black hair of his mother but dark grey eyes like his father. He also had Khai'la's temper, sharp and easily roused. He spoke little except with the wolves, and even with his brother and me he preferred wolf- or mind-speech. Niy'ashi was the one he went to for play or comfort in the first place, or he came to me. But unlike his older brother he had much less closeness to his parents, which neither Kelehan nor Khai'la begrudged, knowing that had been inevitable. By now, Kela'shin was old enough to understand what we meant with true names, and clan-names. Niy'ashi, a warm and open nature, had kept his true name as clan-name. So had Khai'la, proud and self-assured. Kela'shin came to me one night, after we had argued about names and their meaning.

"K'ashi, what is your real name?"

"If I wanted people to know it" I said "I would have kept it as my clan-name"

"You could tell me" he said.

"So?" I returned curiously "Why?"

"Because you know my name. You know I am Kela'shin. And I did not even tell you"

That was definitely a good point "Well, I know your name because I was there when your mother gave it to you"

"Still you know it" Kela'shin frowned "I would not tell anyone"

"Want me to believe that?"

I was teasing him, and he got a dark look "Who should I tell it to? The wolves don't care about names at all"

Another point "You talk to Shand'rel and Malan'toh as well. You could tell them"

"Ha" he made. Then added "We do not tell secrets. To each other…I do not tell secrets"

"Are you challenging me?" I asked.

He thought that over "Yes"

"On what grounds?"

Another long silence "You know my name. But it should have been secret"

Another good point "Very well. Kela'shin, my name is Sakesh. That is what my mother called me when I was born. But for the clan, I am K'ashi"

He stored that away. Then nodded and plopped down beside me "Do you know a story, K'ashi? Onakir said, the world was made by a black wolf. But here it is all white"

I was thinking of that one day when I climbed into the mountains looking for Onakir. I wanted to talk to him. But I had found no answer to Kela'shin's question. At least, not a very final one. One might have been, because this is not our home, here. But that was the answer one like me would give. This was not the place I wanted to be home. I wanted the forests I knew, the mountains. But Kela'shin knew only this. He was comfortable in the cold, more than we who had come here running from the green valley after _oka'sanok_.

It wasn't the right answer, either. With the coming of the great brightnesses, the black wolf had only the night in which his world looked like it had in the beginning. Here, the bound light of the Nighteater lay on the earth for more than half a sun-course, shimmering, and not even the nights were dark. With the brightnesses, all had become turned around and mixed. In the time when Nighteater defeated _akh'khair'lar_ for the longest time, the nights were properly dark. But when _akh'khair'lar_ reigned, and bound Nighteater's light so it fell to the earth, there still it was and made the nights bright.

Yet, the wolf's eye shone above us here, too. All this whiteness was part of his world as well.

Onakir was in a bad mood. That is, he seldom was in any mood. _Khai'noch_, I thought. Sometimes it amused me, sometimes only puzzled me. He was always calm. But not today. He looked wan when I found him, on a high ledge that looked out over the wide valley in which we lived now. It was hard walking up here, on two legs. But I carried meat for him, so I came unfurred. Onakir had been looking for herbs the past days, and he had indeed a few small bundles with him now. I looked at them.

"That is all you have found?"

He nodded glumly "All that grows here. Nothing of what I think we would need. I do not know how to use what is here. There is no time to find out. Those green things, they are all east, beyond the snows"

"Cannot we go back?" I said after a while "We have been here long, now. Maybe the lands we left are changed, but maybe we could still live better there than in the snows…" I hesitated "Does the Hawk tell you nothing?"

He made a small gesture, encompassing all the lands "There are no hawks here"

"If you can't call him, can't you…dream him?"

Onakir sniffed "In my dreams, he flies me over lands I know. The lands we left. Changed, as you said, but still there. I…wish to go back there, too"

"What if we sent a few further on? Maybe we can follow this valley south and so come into snow-less lands again? We would go furred, to see what it is like. If the white ones come with us a little, we will hunt well on the way"

Onakir was silent, munching his meat hungrily. Obviously, there had been no prey for him while digging herbs "Are there some who are willing? Good hunters on their own? We cannot lose any of those who currently provide for us. There are cubs"

"I can find enough" I said "If you think it is wise. I will talk to them"

"You will go, too?"

"I would" I said carefully "Khai'la, too, would go. Saka and Thoka'osha spoke of it. But Saka has a young cub now. Maybe I would take it for her, though. If she wishes"

He watched me, but I did not want to react to his question as concerning me. Currently, my wish to stay with Niy'ashi and Kela'shin was stronger than my wish to go with the scouts. If my staying left Saka and Thoka'osha free to go, that was just as well.

"We will speak to the clan tonight then" Onakir said at length.

Chapter Notes:

Paka-a-shin: "storm-friend"

Nok-a-shin: "storm-lover"

Saka: "River"

Sakesh: "Joy"

Shand'rel: "Snow-song"

Thoka'osha: "Lonely Wind"

Malan'toh: Sleeper ("Sleeping One")

Khaniru: "keeper"

Hinyan: "hoot owl"

Kela'shin: "rising storm"

Niy'ashi: "laughing wolf"

Shinosh: "storm-bird"

Kes: "rain"

_Khai'noch: _"hawk-caller"

7


	20. Chapter 20 Changing

**Changing**

Raven's POV

Orocarni, SA 8

I woke one morning in bright sunlight. K'ashi slept beside me, exhausted after last evening's hunt. I had expected to sleep at least until dusk and felt a bit deserted and bewildered being awake so early. But I had gone to sleep at dawn with a weight in my gut that contradicted my feeling of emptiness. I could find no word to call it by, but that was not important.

I missed the wide snows, the barren mountains, and the cold lands in general. They were my world, I knew everything there, every plant and whatever else lived there, furred, feathered or mailed. I knew the scent of the seasons there, knew how the sky would colour at dusk, and what the clouds portended. That were all things I had not thought about there. They had been simply there, and went on according to the way it was in the eversnows. When things happened now I often could not explain them. Rains came out of nowhere, and dusk might be as much an affair of blinding colours just as an imperceptible grey darkening. Or lightening, if dawn was involved. As it happened, I watched dusk more often. That was when the wolves woke and usually played among themselves. The older ones of our clan knew these lands. It was good to have K'ashi who could tell what everything meant, but it also stung me to have to rely on him as if I were still a pup.

And I missed the northern lights. There were none here, and the nightskies seemed curiously empty at times, but all the same bounded. You had to walk far and climb high if you wanted a place where you could see far and wide around you. There was no spotting things from far away, and then running to catch up with your prey. You had to sniff, and track and stalk here like a great cat, not like the white wolves in the snows. At night, though there were no flowing lights there seemed to be fewer stars, or so I thought. K'ashi said it was only because there were high clouds here, and more hazes that obscured the smaller stars that it seemed so. But these lands here were not bad. I had the grey wolves to tell me what to do here to live well. In a calm way I did not understand a part of me knew I would soon be at home here as I had been in the eversnows. The wolves adapted, from one place to the next. They lived well in either one. Many of the clan had not felt so fortunate in the eversnows and were extremely glad to be back here. K'ashi for one. He had returned to _his _territory now. I would find a place here. Niy'ashi had, and so would I. Only I missed the great white wolves, who were gentler than the massive greys that travelled with our clan. They had not come with us to the warm lands here, except a few younger ones, mixed offspring. They were larger by far than our greys, as large as a changewolf. They were not as gentle as their white parent, and you had to remember in playing with them that if you really angered one of them, there was more weight, strength and larger jaws to those furred ones. And I could see why not more whites had left their own lands – it was too hot here. Of course, it was summer now, K'ashi said. The winters here would be cold and snowy, too, but I still did not like it very much. In the eversnows, the wind had always been cold. Here, even the wind was hot on days like this. The wolves slept those days away, the clan did, even Niy'ashi did. But I did not want to sleep now. I had dreamed. Not badly, but curiously. K'ashi said I was too young to change, to be like the wolves when I wished. I couldn't see why. I had walked all the way out of the snow-lands. I had hunted what I could. I was part of the wolves' pack as I was part of the clan. I slept with them, played, hunted and ate with them, guarded their pups. I could speak to them, and they would call me when they were about to play or hunt. Why should I not fur now, when they were treating me as one of them already? In my dreams, I was often wolf.

But this morning, for the first time, I had seen a way. I had walked a way to become a wolf myself, and this time, I had walked it seeing. I had a feeling I would know what to do even now that I was awake. In my dream, I had been wolf, the way I had been wolf in my dreams before, only this time that wolf had led me. I had followed a wolf that I knew I was myself.

Maybe that was what Onakir had meant when had said the change was inside yourself. But he had not said you got the key in a dream. It came to you when the time was right. And K'ashi said it was when you were grown up.

Which I was not. So I got up quietly, without waking K'ashi, and ran to the place where the pack slept. I wanted to try this, but I wanted a wolf near, and I did not want anyone else watching. If I failed, I need not tell. The wolves were all asleep. None bothered to wake as I walked among them. I went to the leading pair, and knelt beside the female. Her right ear was torn, and so we called her Notch-ear, but she did not care for the name. She listened, though, when she heard the sound, and would do us the favour of coming when we addressed her like that. She was the daughter of a white and a grey wolf, but she had come from the snows with us nevertheless. If anyone, she would understand my longing for the lands we had left. I buried my hands in her ruff and kissed her muzzle, then lay down close beside her. She shifted a little, stretched and dropped one of her forelegs over my shoulder, just as K'ashi would hold me when we slept. She was longer than I, and my feet would come scarcely to her hind legs. I curled up beside her, though at the moment I definitely was hot enough myself that I did not need the warmth of a furred one around me. This forest was lush green and leafy, and smelled very different from the airy and high forests in the eversnow-mountains. The sun burned the scents out of the ground and into the air. I quested for Notch-ear's mind, first to share for a moment her idea of a proper cool pine-forest, but then to get a better understanding of the present scents. Hers was still better than mine.

And then I moved to test my dream. Maybe having Notch-ear beside me would give me a better idea how it would be to really be a wolf. I desperately longed for the moment I could do that, when I myself could have a wolf's power. Long legs for running and leaping, and great soft paws instead of the two thin arms that were little good for running, or the long, thick legs of unfurred with feet that caught under roots and sprung twigs more often than a wolf's. A long muzzle with strong, sharp fangs and a nose that warmed the air as you breathed it.

I could see the wolf I would be clearly, only I did not know which colour I would finally be. Niy'ashi, K'ashi and Onakir all had black hair, but only Onakir was a black wolf. Niy'ashi was grey when he changed, a colour that was seldom in our clan, and K'ashi was special, because he was amber-coloured, with brown, tawny and black markings.

I did not care at all which colour I would be. Wolves did not care for that. I just wanted to run as one of them. I remembered the dream very well, though I had not seen a colour. Or I had paid no attention to it. Now I wanted to find out. I breathed Notch-ear's scent, listened to her heartbeat, and waited until my world was filled only with the wolf's presence, and then with her awareness of the world, and her calm. I let myself fall into that, and reached for the memory of my dream, how I had turned into a wolf. There was something older and wiser that sometimes said, do this, or leave this. It was almost like K'ashi warning me not to run into sting-weed, but it was not a voice outside me. The notions came from myself, but also as if someone was guiding me. Without being intent on or conscious of it. The notions were what helped me when I was with the wolves, they told me how to understand what they did, and what they meant by it. The dream now gave me the revelation I thought I should have had before. Because K'ashi and Onakir and Niy'ashi had told me of it. And they had said something like there was a wolf in all of us, and making up another part of us without which we were not whole. Well, that would be true. If I did not have the wolves, and could not talk to them and be with them…I had not thought about that either, before. What if I had not been able to do what all others of the clan did? If I could not lie here with Notch-ear now as if I was her own pup? What then? I could not finish that thought, chiefly because I had no idea how you could live differently from this. Could want to live differently from this. I knew there were indeed people who did live differently from us. Father came from them. Father did not have a wolf to help him. But I did not think I would ask him about that. I wanted my own wolf, not only as the warm and gentle guide in my mind, but I wanted him to be my body as well. Even as I thought that, it was as if my hands cupped a small, smooth stone and not held Notch-ear's pelt. I knew what I had to do as if I only needed to juggle the pebble which side up I wanted. My guide was part of me. I was my own guide. But still, I would never be alone, because that guide was not only myself – but a wolf. A true wolf, only furred. Not as I was, furred and unfurred. Of course there was no pebble, only a thought, something I had to reach out for – I had to will it, and I did, and the ground seemed to drop away from me. I had once stepped on ice that had given way beneath me and plunged me into a cold mire of slush and mud. It was like falling again, but only for a second, and there came no cold shock. As in my dream, my guide was there, and he now had not only a voice but a face, and I knew it was that face I had seen in my dream. A wolf, a black-furred wolf.

I opened my eyes, and though the world had changed abruptly, in depths and sound and feel, I was not lost. Everything was changed, but it was as it should be, as I had seen it uncounted times before, through Notch-ear's eyes, her mate's eyes, and those of their pups. I knew their ears and noses, and now I knew their bodies too. Because I was like them. Unfurred, I needed my eyes much more than I knew Notch-ear needed hers, and even now, though I mainly smelled and felt her, I first of all had to _see_ myself. It was different seeing furred, but I still recognized everything. Where my hands had grasped Notch-ear's fur my paws now rested on her side. Short and thick black fur covered the naked skin of unfurred, and my breathing was different. Easier, and my body felt lighter, more supple and full of power. Notch-ear blinked in lazy surprise, stared at me, and then sniffed me. She started to lick me all over with her rough, powerful tongue, which was a curious sensation because I only knew the feel on naked skin. Though fur protected from thorns and brambles, stinging flies and even painful bows and kicks from hooves and horn it seemed more sensitive to touch. Wolves licked to wash, to soothe, and to say they loved one another, and I had often fallen asleep to the one or other rasping his tongue over me, but Notch-ear licked insistently and diligently as if washing one of her own puppies. Her touch was familiar as much as the new sensation of furred skin was unfamiliar, and it connected me to this also familiar but unaccustomed form very effectively. Then she rolled me over and nudged me °Go to K'ashi. He happy°

I mind-spoke the wolves all the time, usually my clan-mates as well, but I must have stared at her in dumbstruck surprise now because she dropped her head and flicked her ears to avoid an indirect challenge. I had not meant this and quickly assured her, nudging her muzzle up gently. I was used to wolf mind-speech, as warm as their dreams but with clearer images, yet not to such plain orders. With this wonderful shape obviously would in time come a much better way to talk to them. But I did not trust it to convey my gratitude and elation correctly right now, so I settled for the simple wolf-way of telling. I licked her muzzle and head.

But then I did not want to return immediately to the others. I almost reached for Niy'ashi to tell him, and held back thoughtfully. This was mine, my time, my experience. Except for my love for the now far away eversnows, this was what I had only to myself. For a while. I looked forward to show them, yes, but mostly I wished to understand all this for myself first. And so I trotted through the forest on my own, until Notch-ear caught up with me. I glanced at her, but she offered me no explanation and so we went on together comfortably. She left me in peace, only trailed me. I understood she was, once again, guarding me as she would watch over her pups exploring the world outside their den. I remembered the first time I consciously experienced springtime in the eversnows land. Within one hot, very hot day all the ankle-high snow had melted from the plains and the rivers had swollen into roaring streams, and a wonderful spicy scent rose from the steaming ground. In the night, there had been frost again, but the next day, there had been first brightly green shoots all over the wide meadows, and another day later, white and yellow flowers had appeared everywhere. As at that time, I walked in wonder now, only doubly so because in addition to the world of scent and sound that had opened to me I had also a body that I had craved all my life and in all my dreams. The wolf did not keep track of time. Only when Notch-ear's belly rumbled perceptively, and mine answered in sympathy, and I heard a voice that called my name I realized I had better show myself. I took leave of Notch-ear, wishing I could run and hunt with her right away, but guessed she would not have it. I had realized this day that she not only treated me as a puppy, in a way I was one indeed. This time, my pride did not grudge this. The wolf realized that, the wolf that I was, and he had no concept of pride. I now had time, all the time I could wish for, to learn to be a wolf. I would start with changing back, eating, and enjoying whatever reaction the others would have. Would they be angry? Was I indeed too young to change and had transgressed some rule I had not asked Onakir for and he had not thought of telling me himself? I decided I would not care as I followed the sound of the soft voice calling.

"Kela'shin! Come out, this is really no fun any more"

°Why do you call me that?° I demanded, thinking at K'ashi as I would have when I had been unfurred. It worked. And this was the first and only time I managed to startle him terribly. He gave a yelp, and even dropped the spear he was carrying. I took in the scene with relish, and knew I would tease him forever with this. He stared at me, his jaw dropping, and only then I realized he had neither scented me nor otherwise been aware of me. Instinctively, my wolf-guide had led me around to come upon him like this. I leaped down the small bank and came towards him °You know that such names are secret°

"K-…Raven? Is that you?"

He dropped to his knees and stroked my fur. I felt his mind questing for mine, and completed the contact we so often shared. Then he laughed, and embraced me and did not let go for a long while.

"Tell me" he said softly finally "Tell me how it happened"

°I dreamed° I said °I dreamed I was wolf, and when I woke and tried it, I found the way I had seen. And it worked°

K'ashi laughed "Oh, boy, _tell _me, not give me a single line"

°I am hungry. I want to change back and eat°

"Yes…You want to try on your own? Alone?" he added abruptly.

°Yes°

Gratefully I watched him pick up his spear and walk into the trees until we could not see each other anymore. I lay down, a simple motion which alone gave me a wave of pleasure. I listened inside myself for a moment, looking for the wolf-part which I could now find and join and separate from easily, and thought I wanted to go back to unfurred for a while. And then I lay on the forest-floor, naked, and uncomfortably cramped because I had lain down as a wolf would find comfortable. Unfurred's muscles and bones did not think much of this position and I quickly uncurled and sat up.

I licked my lips, and gathered awareness of myself as unfurred for a moment until I found the strength, will and voice to speak "K'ashi?"

He was back quickly, running, leaping the rotting stump in his path to get to me. He laughed, as happy as I had ever seen him for some reason, and swept me up in his arms. Once more, I could not begrudge someone the puppy-treatment today. I felt tired, and his carrying me was quite comfortable. So he marched into the middle of the camp and through it, and to his place. There he sat a rabbit in front of me, one that had been killed only a little while ago because it was limp and warm yet. I knew as wolf I would have set my fangs to it right away, and I longed for the time I could chase and kill my own prey. But for now I took a long piece of flint gratefully and started to cut and skin the rabbit. We shared it in silence, and then K'ashi asked "Ready to show the others?"

"Won't they be…angry?" I asked, feeling suddenly subdued "Onakir? You? You said I was too young-"

"Bah" K'ashi said "I _thought_ you were too young. You proved us wrong, and there is no reason to be angry. You…I think there was no one who managed to change younger than you"

"You are teasing me again" I said "You are always saying I am the meanest, laziest…"

"Not on this" K'ashi interrupted with a laugh "I won't. You are what – eleven suncourses old?"

I nodded mutely. K'ashi knew my age very well, why did he ask?

"See" he said as if that explained everything "And those I know took more, much more suncourses until they were able to change"

"How many?"

"Some, twenty. More, over twenty"

"Twenty?"

K'ashi held up both hands "Ten, and ten again"

What a long time it seemed when K'ashi made small holes in the ground with his fingers. And each point was supposed to be whole sun-course? I shook my head "Wolves do not count. What use is it?"

"For wolves, little. But maybe for unfurred. We counted before your father came along with his rows and rows of numbers. If you want to go out scouting with Niy'ashi, you must know how to count numbers"

"Notch-ear did not ask for my age" I pointed out.

K'ashi laughed "Oh come on. We go to Onakir"

"I am tired" I hedged.

K'ashi grinned "I know the moment I leave you, you will be back with the wolves. Sleep if you will, but then I will stay, too"

I curled up beside him, really too tired to retaliate for his teasing and insistence. As soon as I closed my eyes, I could feel the beckoning way much clearer. _Not_ _yet_, I said to myself as much as to the feeling which said _now_. It was there, and it was a little as if I could mind-speak Notch-ear again. But it was myself, somehow, and another wolf than Notch-ear. As K'ashi did, it too guarded me. I fell asleep as deeply as I thought I had not since we had left the eversnows.

I woke in the middle of the night, to the soft sound of voices. K'ashi and Onakir were whispering so as not to wake me. Keeping calm inside myself, I listened without really waking. It was the way wolves always listened even while they slept, and it gave me much pleasure to find I could do it nearly as perfectly now.

For a while, they talked of the clan business. That was nothing I did not know, and I let it pass by. Then Onakir said "That is a tale worth telling, that an Ashi'kha should change so soon that his wolf-form even is yet almost a pup"

"Sometimes you speak like Kelehan, shaman" K'ashi said amusedly

"Then maybe I am justified now in asking them to learn more from me than songs and tales"

"Maybe you are" K'ashi returned "They are both grown, in a way. But you should also keep in mind that Raven will go where Niy'ashi goes"

"Even if that would mean leaving you?" Onakir asked doubtfully.

I felt his doubt echoed in myself. I had not thought about something like that at all, ever, since the one time I had realized I would not be able or allowed to remain alone in the snow-lands. But if Niy'ashi went away, there was nothing for it. Yes, I would go with him, wherever he might go. But why should I have to be made to choose between him and K'ashi? Why should Niy'ash want to go? And when? I wanted to hunt with Notch-ear, to run with the wolves in the long autumn-hunts. No, I did not want to think about such a decision.

"Yes" K'ashi said quietly, and added "But rightly so. His place is with his brother. They will learn from you, but I think you will lose them to the other course you plan. As Kelehan's sons, you can send only them, if you will send anyone"

"I know nothing yet" Onakir said "Nothing except what Kelehan could say or suppose on the grounds of what he remembers. And the little the Hawk tells me. It is futile to worry about that"

Their talk turned to other matters again, and my attention wandered back into sleep. I did not forget the conversation, but did not speak to anyone for a while. Presently, I dismissed it from my mind, until in the next winter I went on my first great hunt with Niy'ashi alone. I loved winter-hunts, because they reminded me so much of the eversnows. One night, Niy'ashi drew symbols in the fresh snow and attempted to teach me some more writing. I went along with it until he said "You did not write K'ashi but K'asha"

We laughed, but then I remembered the overheard words of the shaman and asked "Why does K'ashi think we would leave the clan?"

"Who told you that?" Niy'ashi demanded "K'ashi?"

"I heard" I said neutrally "And why did you not tell me father and Onakir are up to something?"

Niy'ashi was silent for a moment "I would say you are a nosy little bastard, little brother, if I did not know better. What they are up to…I don't think they know, themselves. Father is…"

"_Khai'toh_. But he is one of the clan now"

"Yes. But what Onakir said, and what father said, is that we might…get into trouble again as when the orcs hunted us into the eversnows"

"Good" I said "Maybe then we can return to proper lands"

Niy'ashi grimaced "No. And what I meant was greater trouble. Father's people, they made a great enemy, in the west. He thinks that enemy might try to reach for these lands as well some time"

"And what should he want with wolves?" I asked, brushing away the symbols we had drawn in the snow "Does he need furs? And what has that got to do with our leaving K'ashi?"

Niy'ashi made an exasperated sound "If you could write at least his name properly I might feel more confident telling you this! – Look, we speak father's own language. At least I do properly" he grinned "And I still have hope you will, too, some far day. So we could speak to his people, find out if that enemy is still an enemy"

"You still did not tell me what he needs furs for"

"I never said he needs furs, Kela'shin!"

"Well, you never said he didn't, either"

My brother groaned, and then laughed "Do you remember what father said about the far west?"

"Of course" I said indignantly "The Valar made his people go there when there was only one folk of unfurred. But some did not want to go, and stayed, and some of them became friends with the wolves. But those who went into the west did not want to stay there forever, either, and when they left, the Valar were angry and said they could never return"

"Yes, but they left for a reason. To regain precious stones their enemy had stolen from them"

I sniffed "I would never take so much trouble for stupid stones"

Niy'ashi shrugged "But they were _khai'tohr_, so they did. And that enemy followed them back into this world and they made war. In one of those wars, the stone-shelter father came from was destroyed. But the enemy was never defeated, and the stones never regained. And the enemy did not only want to keep the stones, he wanted to win the wars forever and kill all _khai'tohr_. He still wants to, and father says that he will never stop that until he has not only killed _khai'tohr_ but all other things. Except those he can make to serve him"

"He cannot hunt for himself?" I asked, disgusted "He needs others to hunt for him?"  
"Oh, he can" Ni'ashi said "But he prefers others to do the work. He only wants lands, and slaves"

"Slaves?"  
"People who hunt for him" Niy'ashi said with a grimace "In a way"

"We…we hunt for ourselves"

"Yes, and that is why father and Onakir think we might leave the clan, sometime. To go west, and to watch and listen. Maybe we can find out if the enemy is still there, or if he is coming east already"

"And if he is?" I asked doubtfully "I do not want to hunt for anyone. And father said he had wolves among his slaves, too-"

"If he is, Onakir says we must fight him. But he thinks we cannot do that as we are. We are only wolves. But _khai'toh_ know how to fight him. Onakir says maybe we could fight on their side to defeat the enemy and keep our lands here"

I was silent for a while. The snow fell thickly now. I wished I could be wolf for a long while, and go all the way back to the eversnows. But then, I would have to go without Niy'ashi. And that was impossible. Just to think of leaving him made me feel hollow and lonely.

"_Khai'toh_ hunt us. They killed Hinyan's father. And that was before we fled to the north. And they have fire" I shuddered involuntarily. Niy'ashi grinned "You made fire yesterday"

"I only did it to prove you I could" I snapped.

"But you did. And you do it without the things father uses. Onakir told me he taught you"

I shrugged "But _khai'toh_…We could not go to them furred"

"No" Niy'ashi agreed "We would have to pretend we are like them. Like their kin. The ones who look like _khai'toh_ but never went into the west. We would have to watch them for a while, and then pretend, and talk to _khai'toh_"

"And you want to do it?" I asked doubtfully. Niy'ashi shrugged "Maybe not really want. But it is something we could do together"

"We hunt" I pointed out.

"I mean, something only we could do. If we are careful, we can pass as _khai'toh_"

I laughed aloud "I couldn't! I am wolf"

"Then you must learn to hide that"

"I am smaller than father. I am smaller even than you. They will know I am not one of them"

"You" Niy'ashi jabbed a finger at me "Are not even grown up, little brother. And it is not as if _khai'toh_ were all as tall as father"

"I don't want to pretend I am not…Ashi'kha"

"Then you will have a problem. Because I want to go, if Onakir asks me"

I was silent again. So I would have to choose. Only this time, unlike when I had to leave the eversnows with all the rest of the clan, I could say no and live on my on. But I could say no to everyone except Niy'ashi.

"I am afraid to leave K'ashi"

"He will stay with the clan. And with father" Niy'ashi pointed out after a moment "And we would not go for a long time. I must learn to use father's sword. And you must learn this language"

I snarled and lunged at him. We rolled in the snow for a while "I will…ask Onakir…to show me…how to make someone…unconscious…with a…hit" Niy'ashi panted, trying to shake me off. I let him go and shook snow out of my hair "Onakir too said something about teaching. What have we done? Are we the only stupid ones that they always talk of teaching?"

Niy'ashi laughed "We are so bright we are the only ones he _can_ teach. No. I think he was thinking as _khaniru a rel_. He has to remember quite a lot"

I frowned "Well, he would have to teach you alone then. I am not a singer"

"Don't you know the part can be split?" Niy'ashi looked puzzled "If I kept the songs, the names and words would be yours to keep"

"I cannot tell stories, either" I said "I come to you for that. I would not want to listen to myself telling a story"

Niy'ashi laughed "Not so bad. But I could do that, too, telling stories. In fact, there is little difference if I sung or told the story. But the different meanings, those you would have to keep in mind, little brother. What do you say?"

"Maybe" I said uncertainly "Maybe I will. If you keep the songs"

"Right" Niy'ashi pointed "And now make K'asha again a K'ashi, and then let us change and sleep. We missed the buck today, but tomorrow we get one"

I drew the symbol again, this time including the whorl I had missed at first and stifled a small sigh. Sometimes Niy'ashi talked so much like father. All tomorrows and todays when it was much easier and more pleasant to live as the wolves did.

9


	21. Chapter 21 Gilgalad

**Gil-Galad**

Gil-Galad's POV

Mithlond, SA 3429

One of the aides bustled into the room and lit the fire. Perplexed, I looked out of the window and saw that a grey and foggy dusk had fallen outside. With a sigh half of frustration half of relief I shifted the papers and treaties of today into a heap. I would not yet fall back into the habit of eating nothing until the last parchment was written and sealed. You did not do that on the battle-field, ever. I was too spoiled again, maybe, or I just had more sense. I wasn't sure which.

I hated days that consisted mostly of checking reports and lists and reading through and listening to cases of quarrel. Very few I could defer to my advisors' desks and time. Add to that a regular meal and the day usually was too short. I wished repeatedly that Elrond was still here, but he had his hands full with the continuing building and defence of Imladris. Today, I also had to welcome a guest. Neither his arrival nor his nature was yet known to anyone here save my chief advisor Fiontur. I was wondering how, if things worked out as I hoped and planned, I would manage to introduce him. As scout captain, maybe, but I could hardly appoint him an existing group. He would be bringing his own. Ambassador or counsellor maybe, but that portended conflict among my existing advisors and other officials. Either way, I faced a hard time of persuasion, cunning talking, or flat ordering, and I found that extremely annoying. Or maybe frightening. I wasn't sure which it was here, either. Conflict within the court with war at the doorstep was not a pleasant thought.

Only my guest had not yet turned up, and I couldn't help feeling a bit miffed. I reasonably told myself that, considering the weather of the last days, he was likely to be delayed. When I was on the way to find something to eat the call went up that he had finally arrived. Hastening into the yard I forgot my livery in the office and came out into pouring rain. Where had that come from? I peered through the rain, and though I had not expected anything specific, I was baffled at this one. He looked more like an ill-treated messenger of the far-scouts than the leader I needed in this. The tiny, dangerously haughty voice whispered in my brain and I silenced it angrily. I kept a pleasant expression on my face, which I thought was quite a feat with the rain plastering the hair to my skull and soaking my robes within minutes.

He wore a drenched coat of mixed furs and his face was hidden by his hood. His grey dappled horse looked no less miserable in the downpour, splattered up to her belly with mud. He pulled a bulky sack wrapped in oilskin from her back and dropped it to the ground unceremoniously, turning as he did so. When he saw me, he hesitated, then bowed slightly when I approached him.

"Welcome to Mithlond and the king's fort" I said formally, returning the bow. Following a sudden impulse, blessing the lack of my formal livery, I did not name myself but said "I am here to attend to you. Allow me to show you the stables for your horse and the other whereabouts here"

"I will only say thank you" my prospective treating-partner said, shaking his hood back and wiping rainwater from his brow with the sleeve of his coat "My formality is somewhat rusted, as is my knowledge of the current rules of court. I am called Caltor. I am the rhevain…envoy, I suppose you could say"

He did not recognize me. Perfect. I nodded "The king expects you. Since midday, in fact. Were you delayed?"

"With all the rain the fords are near impassable, even those of the rhevain. And the guards would not let me enter with my weapons. We…argued for a while"

He had a funny accent, if accent I could call it. Only now I saw he indeed had no weapons and berated myself both for missing it and for not having forewarned my guards.

"I apologize" I said neutrally "I will retrieve your weapons while you can change into something dry. Come now. The stables are this way. The marshal will see to your horse"

"I will see to her myself" Caltor replied matter-of-factly. He fell into step behind me, and so did the horse though he not once touched the reins. I instinctively turned towards the place where my own horse was housed and just barely managed to imperceptibly swerve our course to the guest stables.

"There is a free booth here, or there at the end" I said, shaking water off my face and pointing past rows of stacked bales "Hay and straw explain themselves, and there are chests with grain over there. Take what you need. I will fetch the stable-master"

"Don't" Caltor said, checking the booth at the end of the row "It'll take only a moment, there is fresh straw in there already" Have you hot water and mash?"

I glanced around hastily, unfamiliar with the small changes that had been worked here in the last moons. I was seldom here, somehow, and the brisk stable-master did not relish my meddling in _his_ stables. I felt a little foolish at my disguise-action as I watched him cinch saddle-straps loose and hoist the gear off his mare's back. I pointed out the stowing racks, trying to watch the horse unobtrusively. Despite her dappled coat she was not a mortal horse but one of the Eldarin ones. How did a wild elf come to such a horse? As far as I knew they would certainly not suffer being stolen from their original masters. Caltor held the door open and she passed me nonchalantly on her way into the booth.

"Meadow, you have one?" he glanced at me and smiled crookedly "I have forgotten the order. I mean, do you have a meadow? She won't stay happily in a stall all day once this downpour dries up. And tell the stable-keeper not to lock her in, yes? She's often mistaken, and saddle-gear doesn't make it better"

"The meadow is just around the right-hand corner" I said, glad to remember at least that with certainty "She won't get locked in, I'll see to that"

We left the stables and made our hasty way back into the main building.

"Is Sindarin not your native language?" I asked as he followed me up the marble stairs inside. Caltor laughed "Of course not. Quenya is"

I whirled around "You are-"

"Elda, yes" He stood there in his mud-stained fur-clothing with his hair drenched and curling and grinned at me "I am often mistaken, too"

"Forgive me" I said "I had no exact word of who was coming and when. I am being foolish today. I took you for a dark elf at first"

"No offence taken" he laughed "I luckily do not carry a sign saying _I came from the west_"

"Still that does not account for your funny accent" After a day of four-sided words and six-sided sentences this unusual conversation seemed to go to my head.

"Doesn't. The rhevain's speak…speech is strange. You see, they mix their own words, Quenya, Sindarin and Avarin, and stick it all together with a grammar you can't learn, you must un-learn what you have been taught as a kid. That is why right now Sindarin is weird for me. I have not spoken it since…long"

"Oh" We reached the guest quarters. I showed him to his rooms and postponed my questions "Fuilaica will come and show you to the great study when you have changed. I will have food brought there" It would have been a formal politeness to accompany a guest and potential ally for dinner, but tonight nothing better could have happened to me. I was so curious for this strange Elda I could hardly wait for him to change into dry clothes and come down.

Caltor did come down pretty quick, in dry clothes but not yet dried, following Fuilaica curiously but with wariness.

"You should have taken your time" I said, pouring wine.

"Nar. I get used to being wet, but not to being hungry" He smiled, glancing after Fuilaica who exited quietly and mercifully without the conventional 'my king' I couldn't seem to get him to drop. Caltor had replaced the bulky fur-cloak with dark brown shirt and breeches of his own. I saw now that he was, though about my own height, thinner than me.

"I have brought your weapons" I gestured at sword and bow leaning beside the fireplace "That's a kingly sword"

Caltor shook his head "It is old and trusty. Thank you for fetching them"

"I do not recognize the handiwork. It is Noldorin, but…"

"It was made in the West"

He chose a place near the fire and stretched his hands towards the flames with relief, jumping the introductory part of protocol. I could not say what he intended with the way he acted, if anything at all. I sat down opposite him "Let us eat first. Hungry guests make poor treating-partners"

He glanced at me, but then shrugged and with a small grin applied himself to the food. We ate for a while in silence. I cleared my throat and decided to go right ahead "I know nothing of you absolutely. What can you tell me?"

He shrugged once more "Of the rhevain, little yet. For myself I carry few secrets that might be vital to your king. I can tell anything you want, I suppose"

I nodded carefully, deciding to be blunt. That might not become one of my assumed station as king's messenger, but I would see how he would react "Why are you with the wild ones? What drove you to them? What did you do?"

He had expected the question obviously, grinned a little "Nothing drove me there but my own heart. I know you do not _join_ them, and you are never rhevain without a good cause. I am endured by some, accepted by others, and some are my friends. My station among them is singular, as far as I am aware. I come and go freely…Long ago, I met one of their leaders who did mercenary work for an army-leader. He used to be a Sinda of Doriath. We became friends, I stayed with him, then with his group, finally with the clan. I travel with different groups of Hawk clan, though"

"I have heard they are a…motley assembly. I never met one of them"

"Oh, they are. Three leaders who would bring their groups to the war I know well. One is Avar, one Sinda, and one Noldo"

"Noldo?" I was surprised "There are Eldar among them?"

He smiled wryly "No. Those among them of Eldarin descent were all born in Middle-earth. By now, most of them are…young"

I frowned "Why is that?"

Caltor shrugged "Hope dwindles, don't you think? The orcs multiply, the elves hide, and men either fear us or ally themselves to evil right away. The situation makes for sharp tempers, and sharper retaliation. Those that become rhevain face at a small scale what your king faces on a much larger one – a diminishing people with difficulty to unite quickly against an invincible seeming threat. Even the last great city in the north-east, Ost-in-Edhil, was laid in waste within a few days"

"Its defence was valiant" I objected, managing not to show the pain the defeat and its countless deaths had dealt me.

"It was, and it was futile"

I could not say if he meant it as the insult it sounded like, but he continued calmly "It is not like all younger ones are prone to become rhevain, far from it. I think it is just that few who saw the First Age still live. Or are still in Middle-earth. And if they are, they seldom have the heart left to work for great changes against the Dark One"

"Then what do the rhevain know of it? Of what we face here? Of the true nature of the foe at our borders?"

Now he hesitated "We know…about the same as you, I think. The rhevain of these lands are well-informed of what passed in Eregion. They are well informed, too, of what passes here. And what is not spoken of"

I nodded "You see to that?"

"I try"

"But if your station among the wild ones is singular, what security could you offer? Will they follow the king's command if he accepts, or yours?"

Caltor laughed "Neither one. I am here to name service, numbers and the price. They will follow a single command, but one of their own choosing, I think. I would be the errand runner, coordinator and maybe second captain, if they had such ranks. So far I know only that maybe the help of the rhevain is wanted by the king. And if, I will try to win them to his cause and coordinate whatever interaction might be needed. They do not wish to work with the city-elves closer than need be. It breeds only conflicts"

"They all were part of a larger people before they became outlaws" I pointed out

"Ah, but ways and customs have changed, sometimes beyond recognition, sometimes not at all. Now, your far-scouts are admirable, but they lack the malice to eliminate all that they find. If they are called, the rhevain will take care of that, either with your scouts together if they are willing to work closely with us, or on their own"

I stared at the oval metal-plaque he wore on a short leather-thong. It showed a mantling hawk.

"You said you were not one of them, yet you speak as if you were"

Caltor snorted softly "Orome knows I would rather be, sometimes" He tapped on the pendant, noticing my gaze "There are five clans of rhevain, Bear, Snake, Fox, Musk-ox and Hawk. Hawk clan is the smallest still. They used to have their heartlands in Dor Dinen, long ago. The names roughly correspond to the regions they frequent most often, though that shifts almost regularly by now. The wars of the last years scattered them, and it is hard for individuals to find their groups again. Mostly, they form new groups and ooze over into the next nearest clan. Even if they know where their original group got to, too often they find a greater or smaller army of the Dark One in their way. It will be hard to unite them all, probably even impossible. I think the best I can hope for is to get the help of one or two of their clans. Or rather, of the divisions of any clan that are near and willing"

"And what will their help cost?"

"Steel" He looked at me, now for the first time. His eyes were dark blue, with a strong greenish tint. Like his hair, a strange colour. Nearly all of my friends were born in Middle-earth, and they sometimes admitted how uncomfortable the Eldar made them feel. Their eyes are too bright, they would say, they see too much. The Eldar didn't see too much, I tended to think. But often they thought they did not see enough. They considered the Moriquendi primitive and rough, who in return held the Eldar and especially the exiles as arrogant and aloof. Both sides feared betrayal, personal or communal. Of course, there were those who would call me a dark elf. Right now, I who thought I knew about the Eldar what I could know and had no reason to back down from anyone, found myself unable to hold this stranger's gaze. I refilled our glasses and hoped my looking away would not be passed as what it was, a weakness. I soon had to drop my masquerade and assume my place as High King.

"Steel" I repeated "What for? Do they not have their own weapons?"

"The weapons they have are traded for or stolen. They do not work metal" Caltor smiled, mockingly this time, as I involuntarily winced when he said "stolen".

"I am aware they are not your choice allies, but the war you are fighting is military, not moral"

"I am very much aware of that" I said dryly, thinking of the heavy weight of the ring in my quarters, and the decision that would soon have to be made. That was a thing where morality and military concerns flowed into each other most inconveniently.

"They will not demand regular pay or anything in that way" Caltor said "Steel is a word with many meanings among them. Most do not even have armour, they carry bows and pilfered weapons. Very few have good swords or axes. If your king can outfit them for battle, with armour and swords and steel arrowheads I think that meets more than half their demands"

I managed not to blink "Aren't they mercenaries? We were resigned to pay dearly for whatever they might do for us"

"They are elves still. They will _ally_ to your king's people. The only condition is that they receive proper weapons for that"

I was silent for a while. Well, I had not expected _that_. That made things appear much more manageable suddenly "And what side are you on, Caltor rhevaindil?"

Caltor laughed "I have loyalties with both. I do not intend to play the game of politics or change what city-elves and rhevain are to each other. I think right now we speak from much more different places than you realize. Forget that I am not of the rhevain by deeds. I was careless revealing that. I care for _nothing _in this war except that we _do not lose_. I have no, absolutely no intention to get caught up in anything nearer to politics than a day's ride. I am here because I was forwarded a message that was not even intended for me…You will know the king sent for Glossegil, one of the envoys of the silvan elves. Glossegil was ambushed by orcs on his way here, and put up a good fight. That was in rhevain territory, if you want to call it territory. They came to help, he said where he was headed, and they escorted him. Secretly, that is"

"Glossegil apparently came alone, without escort" I agreed carefully.

"They took care not to be seen by the sentinels. Glossegil told Gil-Galad, though, who sent messengers after his one-time escort. I think he wanted to talk to them. The rhevain saw them, but did not want to be found. On their return they asked me to go and see what the messengers wanted. I met the messengers as they were still searching for the vanished party. They told me Gil-Galad wanted to see if they were willing to help. Is he desperate, your king, to ask even the outlaws?"

I smiled at that wonderful pass "I have asked even the humans. Yes, I do grow desperate"

He looked at me for a very long while "You played me the fool?" he asked finally.

"No" I shook my head "Not the fool. There were two ways – you would speak openly to the king's messenger, or you would hedge. You did the first, and in what you said and the way you said it I could see you spoke true. We do not trust the rhevain, nor their bargains. I am cautious. Do not feel yourself slighted by my test"

Neither his face nor his voice betrayed anger "Maybe not. But what did you mistrust – my reason, my judgement or my intentions? All of those, and they all come together in what I am"

I was silent for a while. It was a rebuke that assured me he was not cowed by suddenly speaking no longer to a messenger but to the High King himself. He had nothing to lose here, and that was clear. I wanted the help he could maybe offer, but he was not dependant on my agreement for anything. His speech was blunt, and without my noticing, he had won part of my trust and my estimation.

"Maybe as High King I should have known better. It was not a good way to start negotiations" I found myself admitting.

He smiled wearily "Maybe as High King you can risk such frankness as now"

"No" I said "I cannot, really. But neither can I dance the ritual of covert speech as perfectly as my advisors can. So. Are you still willing to ride for my army? You have told me a great deal already I would have asked tomorrow otherwise. We would speak of the finer things then. I expect another commander to have arrived by midday"

"I will be of little use to speak before your court. If the negotiations are with you personally, it will be well. Then I think I will use the night for sleeping in a real bed again. It was a drag of a ride today" he stretched and rose. I got up as he did so "Where do you come from? The nearest river is twenty miles distant, and I know my messengers did not cross it"

He looked into the fire for a moment. The light of the flames danced over him, strangely accentuating the red in his hair.

"From the east" he answered then "I intercepted your messengers when they lost Glossegil's track in the swamps, but it took me fourteen days to come here because I had to pass near the Eryn Vorn first. So there is the reason for the delay by so many rivers. Glanduin near the swamps, Gwathlo at Tharbad, Baranduin at Sarn Ford. And the one you call Deepflow by swimming my horse. I do have good reason to indulge Faire while I am here"

Eryn Vorn was, as far as I knew, except for a few Men completely unsettled, thickly forested land, surrounded by rocky forests. In winter the naked trees were frosted over by the cold, damp sea-winds, and in summer the forest was steeped in wetness from countless small waterfalls.

"Is that…rhevain territory then, Eryn Vorn?" I asked, opening the door for him without thinking. He looked perplexed, but then laughed and preceded me.

"Yes" he answered my question "Partly. Hawk-clan is there often, and Fox. Snake only comes in summer, and not regularly. I brought messages and trade-goods there from Hollin"

We were in the dark corridor now. I stopped by a window, where grey light from the misty night fell in "But Hollin is deserted"

Caltor stopped beside me, looking out "It is years since Ost-in-Edhil was destroyed, yes. There are ruins, though. And ruins like those hold more than ghosts and memories, High King"

"Orcs and wargs and bones, for sure"

He shook his head "Precious things for the rhevain"

It took me a moment to piece together what he hinted, did not say "They…you…you raid..." I paused, gathered my thoughts about me "You help them find…whatever things might be lost there so they can trade?"

"Yes" There was no mockery, no challenge in his eyes "While the city stood, I was sometimes there. Sometimes, I lived there myself, a few days, a few moons. I rode with the traders going to and from Khazad Dum as guard, sometimes alone as messenger. I acted as mediator between the rhevain and the city-folk, carried their goods if one dared not go see the other. The Mirdain found that the wild elves had knowledge that is…very different from theirs. Lots of Avarin wisdom. But they could hardly deal openly with the outlaws, so they used me as go-between. I know my way around the ruins"

I held on to composure. I would not dare judge this. I could not. I held on to the window-sill, hard, for a moment. He knew a lot, this one. But whatever the Mirdain had learned from the wild ones it could not have been of so much consequence as what they learned from Sauron. And the crowns of that learning rested in a wooden box in my quarters right now. It all came down to that, over and again.

"I say this now because I know you, too, have fought hard for the city's survival" Caltor said softly "I thought first it was scavenging on the dead, doing this. Just as you think now. Now, I believe it is not important anymore. The rhevain have some use from things that would otherwise lie rotting in the rubble"

I shivered. It was the cold, I told myself. There was suddenly a great distance between us, in this dark corridor. Yes, I understood what he said. But to accept it as such was yet impossible. Too much pain hung on that, the memory of that city, the valour of its defence. And the futility of its fall and the lives lost in that.

"Forgive me" I said when I could trust my voice "It is not the way I can see that. But I see the logic. So where are the rhevain you think will fight with us?"

Caltor made a small gesture, vaguely "Some are in Hollin now. Some in Eryn Vorn. Some in the Trollshaws. More are wandering. I do not think the far eastern clans will come, at least not completely. Hawk, Fox and Bear, though, I think they will come, all of them. Snake and Musk-ox will be too far, but they might come later"

As we climbed the better lit stairs to his room I finally said "Your horse's name…"

"Faire, yes"

"I know it is a Quenya word, but I do not speak the language as perfectly as maybe I should as High King. What does it mean?"

He smiled another wry smile "It is an ancient word. The original significance was _phantom_ or _spirit_, but also _death_" He hesitated, and I filed _that._ There was a significance there that I missed and which he did not explain. Instead he added"The meaning now is _ghost_. You have seen her in the bright stables – but give her a misty night, and an orc will not know what hit him"

I halted in front of the door "You are good fighting on horse-back then?"

Caltor leaned against the door-frame easily "Yes and no. She and I are a team, and I am good with her, but it is all our combined skills. I would not be near as good riding any other horse. I prefer fighting on the ground, or cowardly safe with the bow. But Faire, she is orc-death"

It was a funny way to talk about bow-shooting as well as of one's horse, even if it was a fine one such as the mare I had seen. I took my leave of him, formally again, and slowly went back to my own rooms. Tomorrow promised to be as exhausting as interesting. I resolved to get the current trade- and supply-lists from Fuilaica first thing tomorrow. The smiths and leatherworkers would be busy for the next moons.

The next day around noon I sent Fuilaica for Caltor. It was a while before he came, apologizing for the delay. He had slept long, and then seen to his horse. We sat at the table in my own study for a while, looking at maps. He cautiously pointed out the areas where he knew rhevain were, but I forbore marking them as yet. I did not wish him to think I might plan to make use of knowledge the wild ones had effectively held secret up to now.

The borders of elven lands had shrunk perceptibly to my eyes. The areas where nothing lived in the way of elves, dwarves or men had dwindled as well. Places where the old realms had been were now water, or wilderness. Wilderness and ruins, as was Eregion.

"It's all changed and broken" I murmured, staring at that part of the map "Imladris and the Havens. Only the Silvans hold lands without building fortresses, but between, its all orcs and wolves"

"Little has changed in the danger of these lands. Except that they have become smaller, and the orcs more concentrated in what remained" Caltor glanced at me "And men come into it uncomfortably. You never know where you are with them. Before the world was changed, there was more space, and I do not think it was only geographically so"

I smiled wryly "That is easy to say"

"I have walked in those lands that now lie under the wave" Caltor said mildly.

"Yes" I looked up from the map "And you stayed after the War of Wrath? Very few who survived are still in Middle-earth. Most went across the sea long ago"

"I did not heed Eonwe's summons, obviously. As you did not either. I was with the rhevain almost continually since that time. And beyond the sea, nothing waits for me but memory. Here, I have friends, and a place"

"And lots of war" I indicated a long scar on his forearm.

"A small price to pay, maybe" There was more to this than he let on, not meeting my eyes.

"Maybe" I hesitated, suddenly realizing what he had said. I had not noticed his slip yesterday, but now I did. I stared at him until he smiled somewhere between mockingly and a sneer "Does that affect your plans for our involvement?"

"No" I said slowly, registering how he got his hackles up "But so there is at least one Elda among the rhevain. What grievance have you against the west?"

"Ha!...That is a long story, and the shortest way is to say family-trouble. We had strong objections to each other's opinions"

"And that is enough to drive one from the Blessed Realm on his own?" I asked wryly. He shook his head slowly as if weighing his answer "I did not go alone. My family did not agree with the warrior lady who was my partner, nor with our way of…continuing our liaison. I am aware we did not hurt their feelings alone, but also great part of the ancient law. The…rebellion came as a way out that we had not foreseen"

Thanks to endless hours of dry courtly teaching I could read between _those_ lines. I changed the topic, not discreetly but effectively.

"How am I to communicate with the rhevain if not all of them speak Sindarin? There will be no time for translators to run between my commanders and theirs"

"I speak Sindarin – and rhevain. I will pass on orders, and they won't argue. I said my position was singular"

"Indeed"

"My king" Fuilaica opened the door and let Elrond in who was still dressed in his travelling clothes. I had not seen him for a long while, and jumped up to embrace him "Elrond. I feared you would be delayed as well"

"I nearly was" he said when he stepped back "It was good we planned a week more for the distance"

"I am glad you are here. Would you eat and rest first? We can defer this to the afternoon, I think"

"No, I am fine. I see your envoy has already arrived. The sooner we have worked out the terms the sooner he can carry word back"

I nodded "This is Caltor of Hawk clan. He will be our go-between"

Elrond turned to Caltor to greet him properly, and stood staring for a moment "Caltor indeed"

Caltor blinked, and then smiled wryly "Well met again, Elrond of Imladris"

I saw Elrond claw at his composure. I could not say what the look on his face meant "So you say" he said after a moment "Gildor"

Caltor frowned in anger "You had to do that, hadn't you?"

"If you choose to hide yourself, fine, but do not expect me to go along with this silliness" Elrond said angrily.

I blinked "Gildor?"

He shrugged "Caltor is but the rhevain form"

"And where did you and Elrond meet?"

The two stared at each other. "Eregion" Elrond replied after a moment "He and his rhevain…escorted our…drawing back. And guarded the borders of Imladris at the crucial time. I did not know you were…here"

"Well, I did not intend it" Gildor said coolly "You know the rings are nothing I wish to come closer to. But this is what I understand – scouts, guards. Orc-killing. That is why I am here"

"You could understand more if you cared" Elrond said darkly.

"We care for different things, Elrond" Gildor snapped "You know we found that out much longer ago than just now"

"We did. But you have more cheek I would ever have thought, masquerading like this"

Gildor got to his feet to face Elrond "I am Inglor's son no longer. And you won't find my name in his line. My _masquerade _as you call it is truer to my place than you realize"

"Peace" I interrupted them, things falling into place, especially Elrond's uncharacteristic anger. Inglor had a son? The 'differences of opinion' Gildor had referred to must have been severe enough to create a breach in the family, deep enough that he had never been spoken about even in my house. Inglor, son of Ingwe of the Vanyar. The true High Elves. None of them, not a single one of Ingwe's people had come to Middle-earth with the rebellious elves. None, it appeared, except Inglor's son, and he had gone as one of Finrod's Noldorin following. Even if Gildor and Silmarusse had not brought disgrace on themselves with their small rebellion, Gildor's going alone would have been cause for a rift in the family. But so he was Vanya. Half-Vanya, maybe, because Inglor had married Fiondis of the Havens, but I saw now why Elrond appeared so overly put out by the fact that Gildor hid his lineage. I saw the logic for Gildor, too. It allowed him to avoid false or high expectations he would maybe inevitably maybe consciously shatter. This came as a shock, but none I would deal with now "Well, Gildor of Valinor" I asked dryly "And you complained of _me_ playing _you_ the fool last night?"

He looked at me mutely for a moment, knowing I put the rest together for myself.

"I do not care for your name or reasons as long as your warriors will stand by me" I pointed out.

"That they will" Caltor said grimly "They may be mercenaries, but they are honest ones, and in this case allies"

I could feel Elrond simmering inwardly "Meaning, as long as the amount of steel is right" he hissed "You are as good as one of them talking like this"

Gildor snorted "If you want to act the true city-elf, I _am_ as good as one of them just by what Silmarusse and I did, Elrond. Really, I do ask myself why I did not act on this much sooner. But you can believe me that they would hardly count you an outlaw just from making love to your partner unwedded. Most of them have much better reason to fear the jurisdiction of their former people than I"

"You had better guard your tongue talking like this in front of the king. You cannot escape being Elda, even if you busily try to quench what light you have. You were born there, _Calathaura_"

Gildor narrowed his eyes dangerously "Yes I were. And that's it. Don't look for Valinor's light in me, Elrond. I chose the darkness of middle-earth long ago"

"If anyone knows about elves who chose the darkness it is me" Elrond snarled.

"Flames of Mordor, will you stop this?" I interrupted angrily, restraining myself from thumping a fist on the table "The king has ears and tongue of his own. I really hope your differences will not extent to the field. Now you both sit down and defer your grudges to outside the council-room or better, you drop them completely"

"It is not I who has a problem right now" Gildor snapped "I came here as envoy for the sole reason that I am the only one the rhevain have who knows comparatively recent things about the realms, and who may ensure them a firm place in the host. Imagine one of them who has not spoken Sindarin for centuries bargaining with you, Gil-Galad, or with one of your advisors. I never intended for my ancestry to come up. Elrond knows very well that neither courts nor households are what I fit it. Or want to fit in" he added with a dark glance at Elrond "I served one king. It is enough"

Elrond's eyes blazed. I refrained from mind-speaking him to say he should please, _please_ _calm_ _down_. Gildor's words might have been a severe insult, but I sensed he did not mean it that way. Rather, it was to say 'I would not want to be king if you laid the office at my feet'. It was just a way Elrond would never have spoken. Or maybe could not understand. The two stared at each other like rams considering the next clash.

"If you guarded the Imladris-borders for a while, I assume you are familiar with working under Elrond's command" I said "Did you work together, or were you at each other's throats?"

Silence. "We worked well together, I suppose" Elrond said grudgingly after a while "At least he did not make me believe he was Caltor at that time"

"What name I carry hardly affects my scouting skills" Gildor shot back.

I groaned "_Please_. May we turn to these maps? I am glad the chances are low either of you will have to work under the other's command in this"

"So am I" they said nearly in unison, then looked at each other and grinned sheepishly. I stifled a sigh. Well, it seemed this merciless throwing of verbal daggers had developed into some kind of friendship nevertheless.

"How long were you in Imladris?" I asked, sorting the maps we had used before Elrond arrived.

Gildor coughed slightly "I have a room there"

I looked up in surprise, and he smiled crookedly "At least I had yet three years ago"

"You still have" Elrond gave a small sigh "I won't kick out the best map-maker I can draw on even if he drives me to shouting"

"Well" I said finally "I see there are quite some things I do not know yet"

It took the three of us, Fiontur and Maciliante two days to set out a rough plan of what the rhevain would do, which positions I wanted to fill with them and which they would accept. It took four days to broach the whole thing to my advisors and the field captains. It was easier than I had expected, though, to find scouts and far-scouts willing to ride with rhevain groups. Then Gildor went off to speak to the wild elves he knew, planning to return with as much of their leaders he could find. Though he and Elrond did not go on arguing as they had, considerable tension remained in those meetings.

"What ails you so much?" I asked Elrond that night when we were alone in my quarters.

He snarled softly "He acts as if he did not belong to us! Instead of being here now, he sleeps somewhere in the wild, trying to drag a few outlaws together. But he was born Inglor's son. He _is_ one of us"

"That is how you see it. There is an awful lot of time between you and him"

"I am not a boy any more, Gil-Galad"

"Oh, I certainly know that, _herald_" I smiled a little "What can we know what it was like in the West? To me, right now, Gildor offers a chance to strengthen our forces. If he finds twenty or two-hundred, _we need every one of them. _You know that. And they may have transgressed our laws, sharply that is – but treason was not a reason why anyone of them became rhevain"

Elrond frowned "You of all of us should know that does not make our people completely reliable"

"That, I think, Gildor will know _very_ well. And you of all of us should know that even kinslaying does not turn one into an epitome of evil or a complete traitor"

He blinked, but said nothing in the vein of his foster-father's defence.

"Your grudge against Gildor seems to be more personal than in any way military" I said after a while "Is it him you mistrust or the rhevain?"

"I do not mistrust him. Or his intentions, _or_ the rhevain. When he is in Imladris, hardly a handful know what he does when he is not there. They know his name, but he threatened death to anyone who he knew was aware that he is Inglor's son and was likely to share that knowledge. He is so…I do not see why he throws away what is rightly his. What he could take. Why is he not part of your people? Why does he make people believe he is just one more exile, or worse, just one of the rhevain, when he could be right up beside Maciliante?"

"Elrond, forgive me if I sound patronizing. Ambition is not defined alike by everyone"

Elrond just snorted.

"When did you find out who he was? Or did he tell you?" I asked.

"He did not" Elrond said darkly "When we hid in the valley first, I asked him to ride with Glorfindel because Gildor _is_ a wonderful map-maker. And the two look at each other as if struck by lightning"

"He…knew him from Gondolin then?" I made a haphazard guess, but Elrond nodded.

"So…And you think such…instances are not enough to make him wish he could escape the past? The years of the first age were long, and longer I think for one who knows the west with his own eyes"

"But does he have to turn to…to the rhevain for all the world? Why does he not stay in Imladris where more people than just me could use his talents? He knows ancient Quenya. He speaks Silvan, rhevain, even some Avarin. Speaks it, mark you. He can sing songs in their language. But I never got him to it, not even to sing in his own tongue! The language-guild of Eregion was mad to get their hands on him when they could"

"Hm" I hesitated "I do not know him well. But just from what I have seen…I know a few Eldar who stayed after the First Age. But unlike many of them, he…appears to move on. In a way I suppose must seem…quite strange to the rest of us"

"I daresay" Elrond sighed "Yes. It is just…"

I grinned "You cannot order him? He would be part of my people, or yours, had he not cut his ties to them. You have no hold over him as I have no hold over the Silvans. That is what bothers you?"

"No"

"No?"

"Well, maybe-. But still he could do more than endure the miserable life of a scout and command a ragged line of wild elves!"

"And what would be the difference?" I demanded "Someone has to lead them. And, I take it, he appears the only one suitable or even possible. Because he is one of them. As much as anyone can be without…doing something unwise"

"But-"

"Wait a moment. I need men. Warriors. Our people are _leaving_. The rhevain, I take it, care little for what or who they fight, except that land remains for them to be left in peace. Their demands are for pay, Elrond. Not once was there a hint that they might demand other things"

"As to be re-admitted to…wherever they came from"

"Yes. What counts is what the people we have do, and how they do it. Not who does what"

"I know that as well as you do"

"Then do me a favour and drop your feud with him"  
"It was not a feud. It was a…difference of opinion. Personal opinion"

"It is fascinating how delicately you two can talk! Well, I see why I left the diplomatic things for you. You control too much. Or try to. Do not try that on him. I have a feeling he would not…take kindly to it"

"He is a risk" Elrond said softly "Now, sometimes, I think that. Gildor _knows_ things not even your counsellors know. And he drifts around in the wild with that knowledge"

"You are talking of the rings"

"Yes"

"Elrond, I think he…does not care for them. Not for their danger, nor for their power. He kept out of Ost-in-Edhil for that. I know now that he spoke more than vehemently against them to Celebrimbor. To use them or destroy them is a decision he does not want to face, or be drawn into. He uses his current place as an excuse not to get involved. But I think that is definitely wise. I wish I had the freedom to do so"

"You know what happened to Celebrimbor"

I sighed "Whatever Gildor knows, he is no more risk to our people than you and I. He is as likely to be taken as am I, as are you. Maybe even less likely, because he drifts in the wild as you say, and as he said he luckily does not carry a sign saying he came from the west. As do we, though, all shining armour and banners saying 'oh, shoot the High King'"

Elrond smiled wryly and sighed "He lied to you. As he did to me"

I frowned "Lied?"

"He said he was Caltor, didn't he?"

"Well, if that is the rhevain form of his name it wasn't even a lie" I shrugged, but Elrond bristled. I suspected _he_ currently used Gildor as an excuse to relieve some of his own frustration. He definitely disliked being led around. And Gildor was not daunted by rank or authority, both things which Elrond knew to wield masterfully.

"He tried to fool the High King"

I laughed "The High King fooled him in the first place, Elrond. I made him believe I was the king's messenger when he arrived"

"You did _what_?" Elrond seemed first scandalized, then he finally laughed "You are an idiot"

"So?" I grinned "I was cautious. And now you don't lecture me on proper respect naming the High King idiot"

Chapter Notes:

Gil-Galad: In what appears the final version of his parentage Tolkien makes Gil-Galad the son of Orodreth. The high kingship passed from Fingon to Turgon, and after his death to the House of Finarfin – whose last descendant was Gil-Galad.

Maciliante: Q "spider-sword"

Fuilaica: Q "green night"

Fiontur: Q "hawk-master"

Elrond's foster-father was of course Maglor son of Feanor.

14


	22. Chapter 22 Nightchaser

**Nightchaser**

Nightchaser's POV

Orocarni, TA 2906

High up in the sky a hawk circled slowly. I watched it intently, bound to the earth, willing the bird to give me some information. I could almost see the sharp head turning, cocking a bright yellow eye at me. The hawk wheeled into a dive.

Abruptly I was with him, watching as if from the bird's back. The ground flew up to meet us, and blackness surrounded me. A silky, warm blackness, out of the midst of which the stars rose up, dividing the dark into sky and earth again. Now as the hawk itself I circled noiselessly in that night, staring down at the dark lands beneath. There was no moon.

Mountains and forests resolved themselves as I swooped lower, into a valley, and wheeled there on a height with the timberline of the surrounding mountains. There was a clearing, and in it, figures were fighting. I drew closer, feeling the wind under my wings, carrying me. I came as close as the hawk would let me…then I was too close, and the vision changed abruptly into starless blackness once more. Before I could swear, though, wingless, not even a spirit-shape anymore, I heard sounds. In a brief flash, I saw the two brothers, surrounded, in that clearing I had seen before. There were orc voices, screams of the dying – Raven's voice shouting, hoarsely, without words, and the clash of steel on steel. Steel…I saw Niy'ashi going down, clutching a ragged orc blade, screaming something. Wings beat about me, buffeted me, black wings and then brown, and I was carried upwards rapidly.

I woke in bright sunlight, under a shelter of twined branches. The soft sounds of the camp whispered faintly about me. Panting, I rolled out from under the shelter and got to my feet, feeling cold sweat prickling all over my body. With a startled screech, a small hawk fluttered from his perch in the neighbouring tree, driving himself upward with powerful wing-beats. He vanished into the brilliance of the rising sun. Shaken and very cold I stood shivering in the bright morning.

"Look for him!" Kelehan demanded "You must, you are _khai'noch_!" He was pale and drawn, and anger did not make him a favourable partner in dispute. I nodded, trying to remain calm in the face of the other's agitation.

"I am, and I will. But you must at least leave me my own time to do so, Kelehan. Right now-" I could not finish my explanation "Show me how to do it! Now. I will try then, I _felt _his death, but Raven at least lives still-"

"No" I snapped, silencing the other at last with my sharpness "You won't even touch _malanela_, ever. I was neither myself nor hawk when I saw what I saw. It was too far away, much too far. _Malanela_-herb for the Searching is poison to your kind, and you know it. I need this day, Kelehan, or chances are I wander too far to get back. And a fat lot of good that will do either you or Raven"

Kelehan turned away for a moment, reigning in his emotions "What can I do?"

"Help me find and prepare the leaves, and watch while I am Searching. If something goes wrong, _you_ must call me back"

The shadow-paths had availed little, only a faint echo, a faint confirmation that he who I looked for still lived. But where, and how – I had to find out yet. Exhausted, I left the farthest edge of the shadow-paths, and floundered in darkness again. There was no hawk here to guide me anymore, the Other Wind that had carried me in the dream, that carried the Hawk, had failed here. I did not know where I was. This place had no name. There was nothing here except me and maybe the goal I sought. Only _malanela_ could get me here, so far away from my body that even the hawk was gone. I would have to seek out and down at the same time, trying to see the lands that would only be shadow here. All at once, the blackness around me got cold and clammy, and what had seemed black before now became a nothing that already again was something. I recoiled. I could go no further, forward or back, as if frozen in water. Then the ice seemed to shatter around me, burst into thousands of sharp fragments. Screaming and in pain, I woke to Kelehan shouting for me to come back, shaking me. There seemed to be cold water in my lungs and I could not draw breath. I opened my eyes and the ice became light, the splinters sunbeams that sent lances of pain through my skull. I twisted away from the brightness but did not close my eyes again unless the cold darkness came back. I could hear my own ragged breath now and knew I had returned. From wherever. I clung to Kelehan's soft, frightened voice after the absolute black silence. Slowly, I realised I did not understand a word. I drew a deep breath, and forced my drained body to roll over „Kelehan, I can walk the shadow-paths and ask the Other Wind for news of him, but I still can't speak _Khai'tho_'s language" I whispered, looking up at the other's face above me. Kelehan stared at me utterly blank for a moment, than gave a short, desperate laugh, realising he had spoken Quenya, after all these centuries. He leaned down and held me close until we could both breathe normally again.

"I'm sorry, shaman, I was blabbering. I thought I would never get you back. And it was me who made you go there"

I shook my head, now daring to close my eyes against the cruel sunlight "It is my obligation to go there, not your fault. But you were right, something was wrong. I did something wrong. I went too far when I could not find him where he should have been"

Kelehan was silent and very still for a while "What do you mean?"

"Not that he is dead, I do not mean that. He is alive, but that is all I can say with certainty. Where, how, I do not know. I am sorry"

"And what can we do now?"

"Bar of going out looking, nothing but wait"

Again, Kelehan was silent. I sat up gingerly and shivering wrapped my arms around myself. I looked at Kelehan "No, Kelehan, that is not a good idea. Not at all"

Kelehan stared at me hard, then relaxed "You're right" he said bleakly "I know nothing of the world out there anymore. Even less than anyone else of our clan. All I knew will be gone and changed now. So there is nothing I can do at all, is there, Nightchaser?"

"Stay with me awhile. I will ask for the Hawk again, but I can not do it for a time. I am weary"

"What…what happened?"

"I don't know. I really don't. But conscious searching avails nothing. I can only wait if the hawk will show me more. Sometime"

"We cannot…even do the Hawk Dance for him"

I looked at Kelehan for a moment, but he did not notice. Under the black pattern of the _akhai_ he was pale and his eyes still red from weeping.

"_Khai'toh_" I said softly "Not yet. Not without Raven"

We sat side by side, silently again. The sun sank, and cool dusk turned into a cold night. Finally, I stirred "I am hungry, Kelehan. Come with me, and let us get something to eat"

Chapter notes:

_Malanela_: a herb, lit. "deep sleep"

3


	23. Chapter 23 Houseless Ones

**Houseless Fёar**

Raven's POV

Dunland, TA 2906

The day was hot, dry and the air flickered over the long grass of the wide meadow. A few birds sang in the forest surrounding the gently rolling grassland. Towards the west the sky was a hazy white, and the sun looked like a pale reddish pearl through that veil. It felt as if storm was brewing. The heat had grown since midday, and now a soft wind came up, smelling dusty dry and of grass.

The sun had risen a long time ago, and I still sat cross-legged under one of the last trees before the empty stretch of rolling grass began. Insects chirped everywhere.

I had dismissed the wolf, I didn't know why, and everything had come flooding back with the sunlight. No. Without the wolf.

Was anything still worth being graced with any kind of emotion? Right now, everything seemed a worthless masquerade before the nothingness that lay beyond.

_The hawk's breast-feathers are white speckled with black. When the first Ashi'kha died and did not know where to go in the spirit world the hawk flew through the space where the night ends, and into the world beyond, carrying the osh'har of the dead with him. Bits of the darkness from the edge of night clung to him though, and there was no wind where he flew then that could have blown them off his feathers. _

_There is no wind beyond the night, and only the hawk flies there. He leads the dead into a new world, where the wind blows wild and free and where some mountains are so high they can never be scaled. _

So said the Ashi'kha, my mother's people.

My father's people said quite differently.

"_The Eldar are bound to Arda and to Time. Their fёar would not leave the world, but remain tied to its existence, until the world and time itself would end. The unhoused fёa would be called to Mandos, to remain in the Halls of the Dead until it was released. Some were allowed to return to life. Some were not. They could be reborn into the world, or they could remain in the land beyond the sea. The call to Mandos could be refused. Then the fёa would remain houseless in the world, and hunger for its former body. Refusal was itself a sign of taint, a sign of corruption by the Shadow"_

I had never thought like this before. thought of this truly. There had been no need.

And now- _Osh'har, or fёa? _

_Houseless fёa._

What if that was it? If Niy'ashi was not gone.

Father had not intended that. To bring doubt and conflict into the Ashi'kha world. He had not told of his people to spread knowledge of the Valar. He had become Ashi'kha. One of us.

But now we knew, of another way, another belief.

_In the beginning of the world, there was no light. Only stars, and wide forests. The first who came into being found themselves by a great water, wide and still._

So far, the legends corresponded, those of the Bright Ones and those of the Ashi'kha. But then they diverged. Elves, the Bright Ones called themselves. Children of the One. Sharing the world with other creatures of this God. Creatures that were not Elves.

Ashi'kha, we were shifters. Furred, unfurred, all in one. Who made us? The legends did not say, did not care.

_In the beginning, there was no brightness. There were forests, and mountains, and rivers. There were wolves. Who made them, forests, rivers, wolves? It mattered not, it matters not. They were, and that was that. And they all were part of a One Thing, and equal, and alive. And wherever they went after death, there they also would be One, and equal, and alive. _

_A black wolf created the world, another tale said. He keeps one eye on it always, and therefore the moon shines._

I rubbed my eyes, which stung from staring into the flickering heat of the day.

_It had been a new moon night when Niy'ashi was slain – the wolf did not look here then -_

There was no distinction perceived in being, only in appearance and mode. There were wolves, and there were Ashi'kha. One and the same, but different in appearance. Furred, Unfurred.

_In the beginning, there was no notion of immortality. Wolves died. Ashi'kha died. Later, when living was not longer only survival, another difference in appearance and mode was perceived. Wolves would die after a time. They aged. Ashi'kha would live and not age, if they were not killed. The Raven was dreaming, and he dreamed the world. Death was only the Raven's dream, born in the starlit dark. But the Hawk had flown with the first light, and wherever furred and unfurred went after death, it would be to the same place. It would be where the hawk flew._

And now? Onakir never said the Gods were wrong. Neither did he say they were right. For Ashi'kha.

I was my mother's son just as much as Kelehan's. Was I Ashi'kha, or was I different?

The wolf cared not – _You are furred. Unfurred. You are Ashi'kha -_

What if I died? Would the hawk lead me? If so, things were well.

Did Niy'ashi go with the hawk? If so, things were well.

If not -

Could it end like that, a wrench, and then only blackness, and only half a life left?

The human traders said nature was cruel. Hot and dry in summer, cold and wet in winter, full of wild beasts and traps to fall into.

Oh, it was beautiful, but it was also cruel.

No, it was not.

There were no _wild beasts_. Not for us.

_We_ werewild beasts, maybe.

I stared at the waving grass.

This place had not changed.

Niy'ashi and me had come here often, spent many days here, long summer days.

Like this one.

I missed the grey. And the place had not changed. The grass did not care for anything except the next rain.

If I got up now and walked away, this place would remain the same, would feel the same if I returned.

Nature was not cruel, it was indifferent.

Nature was not human hearted. They could not understand, humans, they saw even less than the Bright Ones.

Wolves did not mourn, but I was no wolf right now.

What you wanted, you had to take. You needed the strength to take it, it would not be given.

The Ashi'kha knew that.

You needed strength to dream, if dreams it should be, and not nightmares.

Those were the only things you were given, the only things it took strength to keep at bay.

And they were following me, nagging at my heels, feeling so solid sometimes, that they seemed to touch me like wind.

I reached for the emptiness, called the pain up, and found only the empty echo of – nothing. _Nothing_ acquired a whole new meaning when it became solid, a thing of itself, sitting where something else should be.

Father had spoken of fёa, of Mandos, of refusing the call.

Would Ashi'kha be called as well?

Was I doubting the truth of my people's belief?

Could we refuse the call?

And if, what had Niy'ashi done?

Could I do the same?

Hawk and a new world, or Mandos and what seemed like everlasting disembodied existence in a dark place?

Sometimes when I reached for the old bond I thought I could find a true echo still.

Maybe I was going mad.

The sun went west slowly, the sky became hazy.

Nothing changed.

Once, Niy'ashi had called the Valar unfair.

To curse a whole race for the pride of one. To be offended by pride at all-.

Some had gone with him out of love. And they were cursed as well.

Neither me nor Niy'ashi had found the notion of the Blessed Realm enticing. The eastern mountains were no paradise. But the wolves were free. And the Ashi'kha as well.

_If there is no hawk for us - were there wolves in Aman?_

I got up, and crossed the plain. The long grass brushed against my legs and the insects flitted away from the disturbance. Outside the tree shadow the air was almost palpable. Heat brooded over the land. The sky looked like the inside of a whitish globe.

_There is no infinity by looking up, so the humans said also. The sky is a roof._

Today, I could at least understand _that_.

Across the plain. On the other side trees again. The forest smelled cool. Through the middle of it a small brook trickled, thin in the summer.

They lived in cities, Kelehan had said. Great white cities. But there was no wilderness. Where would those fit into things, who went furred often as not? Across the brook, and the wet cool ground of its borders.

The ground rose from the plain here, the trees stood closer. The ground was covered in their leaves. I followed a thin trail, unused in years by two-legs.

Traders sometimes crossed here, but they avoided the end of the path. There an old oak stood, gnarled, dark and low. The humans called it the blood tree. Blood-trials had been held here before, so they said. People were killed here for what they had done. Crimes considered severe enough to be punished by death. The humans that had lived here were gone now, only a few ruins of their houses still stood in the forests around the plain.

And the old oak.

The traders sometimes visited it, for what I had never found out.

Neither Niy'ashi for that matter, and he had always been good with humans.

They were close-mouthed about the blood tree, looking fearful and ashamed. I did not give a damn for what had happened or not happened here. The tree was shunned and I would be left alone here.

There was something faintly different about this one, maybe. But there were also trees like this in the eastern mountains. It was nothing worth troubling about. The shadow had woken the trees, twisted them. So the humans said, so the Bright Ones thought. The Ashi'kha did not know, or care much.

The trees were just there, as _we_ were just there.

At least, people had stopped coming to the eastern mountains.

And the trees did not care much about blood. The oak didn't.

Whose blood, why.

The tree did not care.

The bark always felt cool and moist, even in the summer, even on a day like this.

I touched the rough bark, strangely surprised that I could still _feel _something.

I was not of the Bright Ones to speak to trees, but usually I could feel enough to make a tree aware of me. They must know a lot, trees, of much that passed under the ground, on the ground, in the air.

I looked for the lowest branches. One of those Niy'ashi and me had used as handhold to climb up was broken away now, dried. So I swung up to another and climbed to the place where the stem divided into four main branches. There I wedged myself into a comfortable position that would not let me fall off if I drifted far enough to loose my balance.

_Blood tree._

_Houseless fёar._

Maybe the two hung together. I sat for a long while, still caught in a debate to call on Onakir.

I could go back, to the Ashi'kha.

If I wanted someone to walk the shadow paths Onakir was the one.

_The shadow paths might lead you for a time to where only the hawk can fly. _

Maybe the shadow paths would give me an idea what Niy'ashi had done.

But Onakir was miles and uncounted miles away, in the eastern mountains.

I could not muster the courage to return to the clan. Not now, not yet.

It was not right.

They would understand, yes. - That was tempting.

They could help, maybe. - But that was frightening.

And what was the point? I wanted no help, I wanted Niy'ashi.

_Never coming back. Not even fёa._

How long would a fёa retain its character, its personality after the body died?

Could I contact Onakir?

_Probably not. _

Not, and still have the power to follow the shaman on the shadow paths over this distance.

I shivered involuntarily. Only once, and a short trip, following Onakir.

The shaman had sensed my terror and returned, laughing at the look on my face.

No, I was not for that. Not yet.

_But to call on the dead was folly, they said. _

"_Unhoused, the fёa may refuse the call to Mandos but not have the strength to resist a counter-summons by the Shadow" _

To try calling on the houseless ones or to seek the shadow paths – neither seemed worse than not knowing.

The obstacle lay in myself. The shadow paths required a full trance.

Onakir was shaman, he spent more time on those paths than in this real world, his mate mocked sometimes.

But Onakir knew how to get there, how to walk there. And most important, how to return. He knew how to read the signs, how not to get lost in the shadows and echoes and how to follow the true path. He knew how and where the Hawk flew. How to fly with him.

Onakir might be able to tell me if it was Niy'ashi…

No. The shaman was far away.

I would find out.

Now.

I could not face a daylong trip into Ashi'kha territory, and then coming – alone.

I could do it alone then, anyway.

If I found what he sought – well, then my next road was clear as well.

If not-

It still remained the same road. _Shin'a'sha_.

I closed my eyes tightly and curled into a ball. I had to draw back into myself for a full trance, and for a long time I teetered on the edge of that.

To draw inside meant to acknowledge what had happened.

Meant to face the pain, the void.

If I did not get there, I could not find the shadow paths.

Another reason I was not suitable as a shaman. Always at peace with oneself, that was frightening. Always aware of what was wrong, and always obliged to make it right in order to be what one was.

No.

I plunged right into the horror of Niy'ashi's death.

For a long while, I remembered nothing. Then I became aware that I had managed a trance. Before I could jerk away from the disconsolate feeling I plunged deeper and further away from conscious awareness.

Let the tree watch for me.

The shadow paths.

Right now, it was only darkness and silence. So savage a silence it assailed me like a thunderblast.

Could the paths change? Could their whole nature change?

I was nowhere, and nothing real.

There was no one else there, nothing else.

I screamed Niy'ashi's name into this void, followed deeper into nothingness, spreading my awareness ever thinner and thinner.

A long while nothing happened.

Then I felt something.

But it was not Niy'ashi.

I could not even say if it was Ashi'kha or elven.

It was foreign, and dark, and threatening.

I waited, undecided.

Listening into the endless night inside.

Had Onakir ever mentioned something like this?

Would a fёa feel like that? A dark elven fёa that refused Mandos?

I was dark elf myself, wasn't I? I should be able to recognize it then...

Could my brother's fёa feel like that?

Whatever it was came closer, brushed against my awareness, tugged at me.

That was a horrible feeling.

I tried to swat it away with a mental brush, and realized this did not work in a full trance.

My mind was not my own, I was part of the shadow paths.

If these were the shadow paths at all.

The connection to the living lands around me was gone. No, not gone but too far away.

There was only night. But no, that was in life, night. The night was alive. Not this lightless, echoing void, this was not night.

Niy'ashi was not here. Nothing about this _thing_ near me recalled Niy'ashi even remotely

I would recognize my soulmate's fea, would I not?

I felt the wolf, suddenly.

Still part of me, even here.

No wolf in that thing I sensed.

This was wrong.

Jerking everything back and curling it inside myself I retreated and blasted the trance. The thing vanished.

I came to gasping, almost losing my place in the tree.

Dusk.

Balmy, misty evening.

Birds singing, loudly now.

Niy'ashi.

Gone.

I pushed myself up hastily and began to climb down the tree, not waiting for my vision to clear. I slipped and lost my hold, crashing through the thinner branches and landing with a loud thud on the forest floor.

For a moment, I remained crouched, paralyzed by the shock of falling. At least the surge of panic blew the remaining shreds of dizziness away very effectively. I dug my fingers into the ground in silent fury, and slowly got to my feet.

Wherever Niy'ashi had gone, he was no longer here. No longer near.

I called the wolf back and started running, away from the plain.

For the wolf, it was easy to leave sorrow and horror behind. I gratefully relinquished every part of unfurred's awareness to the nighthunter.

Chapter Notes:

Cursive passage in quotation marks paraphrased from _Morgoth's Ring, _"Of death and the severance of fea and hrondo"

"Nature is not human-hearted": quoted from Lao Tsu

Fёa(r): Quenya for 'soul(s)'

_osh'har_: Ashi'kha term for fea, meaning 'swift wind'

_shin'a'sha/ shina'sha_: lit. "thunder-road", "shadow-path", an Ashi'kha ritual of both mourning and living

7


	24. Chapter 24 In the Silence

**In the Silence**

Raven's POV

coast between the rivers Angren and Gwathlo, TA 2906

"_A black wolf made the world, and it was all black, like his own fur. When he shook it, tiny hairs flew from it, and when they fell onto the world, they became the stars. A long time the wolf was content, knowing the world was there. But he was curious, and he turned his head so he might see his creation, and cocked his head like curious or puzzled wolves do. With one eye he looked at it, long and wary. He saw the creatures on the world running and moving as they saw his eye and were frightened like prey running from a pack. He blinked slowly, opening his eyes and closing them, and saw that the creatures were now watching him. _

_But then a great brightness came, and the glitter of the stars vanished, and his creation was changed in the un-shadow. The black wolf was frightened at first, and retreated and left the world to the brightness. But he had made the world, and it was his, and he felt like defending it. So he challenged the brightness, and slowly drove it from the world so that the glitter of the stars became visible once more and his creatures were happy at the sight of his eye. _

_But the brightness would not abandon the world, and it returned to fight the black wolf, and since then the wolf hunts the brightness, and brightness hunts the wolf, and often they overtake each other. _

_Sometimes they close with each other and fight, and sometimes the wolf loses and his eye glows red with anger. And sometimes the wolf wins, and his black fur hides the brightness as they fight._

_That is how we see the Nightstar waning and growing, and moving across the sky as the wolf hunts the brightness. _

_That is how sometimes the Nightstar hangs in the sky low and red when he should be shining bright. _

_That is how sometimes the Daystar fails while the sky is free of clouds and it should be the time of brightness. _

_That is how the moon is also called Wolf's Eye" _

I stared across the greyish waves. Far away the border between sea and sky vanished into a colourless haze. The heavy grey clouds overhead seemed to lower on the water. I watched the wheeling gulls, white specks against the leaden sky, trying to swallow bitterness.

_White birds._

_Ravens don't cross the sea._

I had lost track of time. A few nights ago.

Things were out of perspective. And out of control.

For the first time in my life I realized I was unable to find the faintest beauty in the land around me, or the faintest sense.

_This is all worthless._

The wolf wanted to live.

He always wanted to.

The rough rock on which I crouched felt icy cold. Thin rain began to fall, driven in from the sea.

How had I come here? This had been stupid. The sea had never been a favourite place of mine.

Things come full circle.

Just what circle?

In my mind, I recounted every curse in Ashi'kha, Quenya, Common and Dwarvish I had ever known.

This was it. I had known this day might come. In my darkest dreams it had haunted me. The knowledge did nothing to ease the bitter emptiness.

_I am not supposed to be here at all, to be here still. _

Things come full circle.

I could not decide what was worse, this, or the memory of that last night.

_It is the Way._

_The wolf knew. _

_Knows._

_There was no other way._

_We knew._

Small pieces of stone came loose. I clutched them in my fist, then threw them out into the water.

My knees stung. How long was it since I had come here?

Behind the clouds the sun was nearing the west. Somewhere, I could feel it, like the heat from an invisible fire.

_The circle closes._

_I cannot do this._

_I can't die._

_I don't want to._

_I cannot live like this._

_He's gone. _

_Gone -_

For the first time in hundreds of years I was alone. Utterly, completely.

There was only one way to deal with sorrow that was too strong.

Turn it into hate. Anger.

But at what?

It was futile, impotent anger.

I wanted to bite something.

No one to blame.

_The Valar are unfair._

But the One ordained it so.

_And where is our place?_

_Neither wolves nor elves._

_Where was our place in the music?_

_What are we?_

_I could be just as well mortal. _

_No you can't _the wolf whispered.

_If you were, even this little control would be taken from you._

_You live, and you decide._

_As long as you live, you hold the power to decide._

_Once you die, you are in Mandos' hands._

_And there, you have no decision, no power._

Ravens don't cross the sea.

I was bound to this land, and Valinor was no option. Neither would I die like a true wolf, like mortals.

I could not for the life of me imagine Mandos.

The thought of such a place was more horrible than a land full of light and without wilderness, without wolves.

_I should not be thinking of the bright ones' land. Not of Mandos._

_The hawk. That is it._

_Without him._

_What about the hawk?_

_How many dawns had passed?_

Icy wind blew from the sea. I felt cold tears on my face.

The wolf was kept at bay by desperation.

Below me, the waves crashed against the rock.

The tide was turning again.

_It's all senseless._

I wanted to run. Escape this all.

So I started out, slowly at first, but then I realized I would be able to hold this speed for hours. It would do nothing to ease the pain.

I broke into a run, as fast as I could, until the blood pounded in my ears and my sides ached.

On a wide empty stretch of sand the sea had dug deep water-filled potholes into the sand. I stumbled into one and water splashed up around me as I flung out my hands to break my fall. The shock of falling and the unexpected depth of the icy water jolted me back into the present. I was on my knees and the water reached up to my neck. Gasping and drenched I crawled onto hard sand and lay still, cursing myself, my stupidity, the fancies of the water and the Valar.

Even the wolf seemed numbed.

I curled into a ball and dug my nails into the sand. The smell of brine and wet salty sand seemed stifling. I cried until I had no tears left, and lost every track of time.

Dawn came unnoticeable, a lightening of the steady grey of shore, sea and sky. I crossed the sand towards the dunes and curled up on the landward side at the foot of a steep sand-hill, the sea hidden from sight.

After an indeterminable time though, the wolf stirred, driven by the omnipresent urge to survive. I pushed him back.

The wolf persisted.

Finally, I gave in and opened my eyes.

Mist.

Darkness.

Silence.

Beyond that, the roar of the sea.

Darkness.

_Hungry_, the wolf whispered.

_Thirsty._

_Lonely._

Unfurred tried to shake him off. I rolled onto my back and stared into the empty night-sky.

_There is no infinity in looking up, _the humans said

Maybe a hawk could fly so high as to find what was beyond the clouds.

But I was not even a raven.

And even if there was nothing beyond, that in itself was a boundary.

_You are nowhere free. Neither raven nor wolf nor elf._

Hunt, the wolf whispered, pacing somewhere in my mind like a caged beast.

Live. Kill.

Rain began to fall.

I rolled over and curled up again, sheltering my face in my arms, ignoring the wolf.

I woke from a half sleep of weird images and silent tears in daylight.

Grey again.

The wind had picked up.

I could not say what had woken me.

There was a crunching sound. The wolf seized me with the violence of attack.

I twisted into a crouch, facing the sound. With a defiance born of sorrow I gripped the change like a writhing creature and turned it back on itself.

I had never fought the wolf like this. It tore at my very essence, and it hurt. I could not say if the pain was physical or mental, but it was blinding, paralyzing.

For a second I could not move, barely breathe, caught between the wolf's mind and the unfurred.

Bird, the wolf supplied, unabashed by the defeat, quicker than unfurred in putting a name to the scent. No reason to attack.

Bird.

A raven.

Staring at me, fluffing black feathers in the sharp sea wind.

Picking at the shell of a long dead crab. Then he flew off.

As all birds did, taking off against the wind, for a moment flying towards the sea and then turning and wheeling landwards with the gale.

_Ravens don't cross the sea. _

Niy'ashi had said it in jest. In another life.

"_Stop going on about the west. You are Ashi'kha, and ravens simply don't cross the sea"_

_The Valar are unfair – _so he had said as well, after listening to father's tale of the land beyond the sea.

_He was more Ashi'kha than I still am _

_He never bothered about the west truly. And father never meant to get us into trouble when he first mentioned the Valar. _

The wind started to drive the rain across the beach in curtains. I was soaked and shivering and still did not move.

Finally, as the light began to dim almost imperceptibly around me once more I stirred.

It was along way back, to the cliffs. The wind drove the rain into my face sharply. Despite the cold, I raised my head and faced the gale, welcoming the sensation of raindrops spattering on my skin, the bite of the wind.

_I'm alive. I am still alive._

_Nothing matters –_

Here, I knew the sounds and smells, here, I was alive, because the land around me was alive. Even if it was only full of sea.

The smell of sea, the sound of sea, sand everywhere.

Slowly, feeling returned. And with it, the cutting edge of loss.

_It is impossible to go on _a part of me screamed.

_But all else is unacceptable _the wolf argued.

The wolf survived.

Always.

6


	25. Chapter 25 Stalking Death

_I will follow where the stream goes_

_I've begged spirits for solutions_

_I've asked all to reverse time_

_They have all said time's an illusion_

**Stalking Death**

Raven's POV

northern Dunland, TA 2907

Carrying weapons prevented me from turning wolf and escaping the thousand little inconveniences Unfurred was prey to. At the moment, the most unbearable thing was the midges. The spring had been cold and punctuated by torrential rains, and now since early summer it was hot and dry. Vast amounts of flies and midges populated every bit of water, and all of them were intent on reproduction. And hence, on blood. They followed me even under the trees, where the shade provided at least an illusion of coolness.

I slowed my trot through the sweltering forest with an impatient grunt and slipped down a steep edge towards a small, shallow pool. The soft ground around the water was pockmarked by the tracks of many animals coming here to drink. More midges danced over the still pond. I waved them and a few insects skidding across the water aside. The water had become so shallow that scooping it up with my hands would only get me a mouthful of muddy sand. Casting a last wary glance around I dropped to all fours and carefully drank from the surface.

This was going to be a problem. There were grasslands ahead which I had to cross to reach the next stretch of forest, and no river ran there. The stagnant pools that usually could be found all over the plain would long be dried out, and I had nothing to carry water.

If I hunted well, blood would do. But I had not hunted well the last days. I had tried to run down a weak, late-born deer in a swamp, overlooking the remains of dead trees under the surface. I had stumbled into the sharp branches, and the wounds had not healed well. The amounts of insects did not make it better at all. I felt tired and weary, and much too exhausted to start another long chase.

_Koth'nakira_ my people said, Stalking Death. I had been _koth'nakira_ for the past year, and the Orcs I was following now were the fifth large group I had tracked and eventually killed since…_then_.

The once again still surface of the water provided me with a haggard reflection of myself. With a sigh, I rubbed dried Orcs' blood off my cheeks, the remains of the last victory paint. Time to replace it with fresh blood would soon come.

Midges sirred all around, already starting to settle on my bare skin. If I continued playing host to all those tiny vampires they would probably suck me dry before I overtook my current prey. Curse unfurred's lack of protection. I scooped up a few handfuls of mud and spread them on my face and body. For a moment, the mud had a cooling effect, but the thin layer dried quickly. Also, it stung in the open wounds. After a moment's hesitation I added another generous layer. I was sweating, and anything that aside from keeping the cursed insects at bay for a while might camouflage or at least cover my own scent was an advantage.

Orcs did not travel by day. Let alone a day so hot and glaring bright as this one. I would catch up. Tomorrow, I would be Stalking Death again.

Though sometimes I rather felt as if Death was stalking me in return. No, I was courting it.

I scrambled up the steep side and took up my bow and sword again. Sunlight of early afternoon filtered through the canopy, and insects danced in the beams. The plains were not far. I resumed my slow trot, wishing once more I could call the wolf and double my speed while lessening the effort.

Chapter Notes:

Quote at the beginning from the song "Timescape" by Kenziner ("Timescape")

2


	26. Chapter 26 Caladur

**Caladur**

Gildor's POV

east of the Hithaeglir between Lorien and the High Pass, TA 2907

I watched my companions wrap and tie their packs, getting ready to start their slow travel back to Imladris.

"So when do you plan to start?" I asked, slipping off Faire's back.

Narandil squinted up at me in the darkness "At dawn. We don't want to blunder through this land at night"

"You would be the only one blundering" Glinael said tartly, setting down a neatly tied pack beside the wild array of wrapped possessions and strings that was Narandil's pack.

"Can't you keep him here, Gildor?" Narandil sighed "He'll make this trip hell with so much Eldarin perfection"

I grinned "Look who's talking, rat-friend. I'm sure I can see the traces of their teeth still on that thing you call pack"

Narandil assumed a pained expression "I truly regret I did not extent the spell to my dear companions. Do you see exactly how hungry a starved colony of rats can be?"

"I remember" Glinael said darkly "But I mostly know how hungry their friends are. You could take the first hunt tomorrow, don't you think? I will even carry your 'pack'" he added pointedly.

"You see?" Narandil asked me, turning "He's already warming up"

"Take Faenross hunting with you" I suggested sweetly "Just to make it worthwhile"

Glinael smothered a snicker "What do you know of such things, my friend?"

"Coming from you," I told him "I won't kill you for that"

"Indeed, that would be a pity. He's the only one we can set on edge just looking at Narandil's pack" Faenross joined in, dropping a load of firewood he had just gathered "We need him, if just for the fun of it. Are you sure you want to travel like a homeless wood-elf all this year? You'll have some hard time crossing the pass so late in the year" he added as I rubbed Faire's nose in farewell. She was going to forage for the night.

"They are less homeless than I am" I said testily "And I have crossed worse passes than the Caradhras"

Glinael blinked "You know he did not mean it that way"

"No. I'm sorry. Look, I have to go tell Caladur what you plan. I think he will move east right away then tomorrow"

"Gildor" Glinael called me back "They follow no one but their leader. They have refused any alliance to either Celeborn or Thranduil"

I sighed "And still they are Silvan. I fear no treachery from them"

"I was not speaking of treachery" Glinael said softly "They have no one's protection and no one will stand by their side if they are attacked. You will be caught in that"

"They have allies among the Avari" I said after a moment "I am taking less risk going with their clan than travelling alone with you bunch, don't you think?"

He laughed "Probably. Well, go reporting"

I found the leader of the Silvan Elves beside his small fire.

"Caladur? May I speak to you?"

"Gildor! Of course. Have you eaten tonight?"

"Er-" I sat down opposite him "I think you don't have to start worrying about my welfare right away"

"Bah" he said "I will ask differently. Are you hungry? I can offer you bread, fruit and some cold meat. Help yourself"

"Thank you" The bread was still warm. It was dark and had tiny seeds baked into it. They tasted nut-like, but I did not know them.

"My companions intend to leave at dawn tomorrow" I said "I thought you might want to know. Esgalmith said something you were late going east this year…"

Caladur nodded "We are. Usually we try to intercept the deer when they leave the valleys in spring and wander back into the forest. Hunting will be a bit harder this time. Well, then we can start out right away tomorrow. I will tell the others to prepare for the move tonight. You at least will stay with us, yes?"

"If your offer still stands, yes of course. But…you see my companions meant no disrespect in declining?" I asked cautiously.

Caladur stared into the fire for a moment "I think they were wise. They would not have liked the way this clan functions. There would have been conflicts sooner or later. I mean no disrespect either when I say your people know how to talk very well. The Avari say those words are like ivy: gentle, but they will bind you without you noticing, and if you are a fool they might strangle you. I cannot talk ivy, so I will speak bluntly. We are a mixed clan. Some have left because the king of the Greenwood offered us allegiance. Some have married Avari and left, and some Avari have married into the clan. We still call ourselves Silvan, but we know we are not. And we do not want to be. There are expectations attached to that, nowadays. Your coming here dug that all up. Some are relieved many of your group leave. Do you see what I mean?"

"I do" I said with a small smile "Though you manage a fair amount of ivy still. Caladur, I am on my own. My companions and I are one of what my people call Wandering Companies. We drift around because the year is too good to waste in one place. None of us would be happy staying in Imladris all the year round. But we do not _travel_ – there are no intentions to what we do, at least none of a political sort"

"You have mighty enemies" Caladur agreed carefully "My clan does not wish to be asked to stand up against them. We have our hands full with the orcs that spawn themselves from the eastern caves"

"I know. You need not suspect greater intentions behind my presence than the taking of an opportunity to spend a year in this land under the protection of someone who knows it well. Because I don't. I know the north and the southwest, but not the east"

"You know the west" Caladur returned my gaze calmly.

"I remember" I said "But I no longer know. And it is shut"

"You speak my language well" he said abruptly "Few of your people bother to learn it, ever"

I shrugged "I have been with the rhevain. You will find every language there, and always someone willing to teach it"

"Ah, but it takes someone willing to learn it, too. But what was your business with the wild ones?"

I hesitated. I did not know Caladur's view of them "I have friends among them" I said "Close friends. I have spent many years with them, but their life is hard, and often cruel. I know I am not for that for ever. So I take times out. A luxury, you see, none of them can afford. But I am always welcome among them"

There was a subtle challenge which Caladur recognized and met "I have neither knowledge nor intention to judge any of the rhevain or their friends, and I won't. We pass each other by, if ever we meet. It is my business to keep this clan out of what trouble we can avoid, so that is what I will do. And our wariness is not towards the rhevain. I invited you to stay before. I formally extend our hospitality to you now. You are welcome to stay, and there are no conditions on it except those I think we can call self-understood"

I returned his smile "Whoever attested you inability to talk ivy should have heard you now. But it is not my intention to rest on your hospitality except if my hunting-luck leaves me completely"

Caladur nodded "There are enough who will be pleased to show you the whereabouts, and they speak Sindarin better than I. You won't have to fumble with our words all the time"

"As long as they are patient when I tell them I want a bone and mean a bucket that won't be the problem"

Caladur grinned "If it is not hospitality you are looking for, what is it then? Company perhaps? Are you lonely?"

It was a curious question, and one I knew no Elda would ever have asked me. I could not say what he intended with it. He did not strike me as the nosy sort.

"Perhaps" I said "Sometimes"

He nodded, once, and again abruptly shifted the topic "But what about your horse? Is there something we have to provide for her?"

"No" I said after a moment's thought "Faire knows how to keep herself fed. If you know patches of grass that we pass near, you could tell her that. Grass feeds better than forest-shrubs and foliage"

Caladur looked at me curiously "Tell her?"

"Yes. I mind-speak her, but she has quite a good grasp of spoken Quenya or Sindarin words as well. 'Grass' is a charm that always works on her, even if you just point the direction"

"That sound…spooky. If your horse knows everything you say-"

I laughed "You get used to it. I hardly think of her as a horse. That is something you should keep in mind when treating her. She can be a bitchy lady"

And so the time went by. I took leave of the rest of my company next day, and though it felt strange remaining behind I also felt relieved. Bearclaw's group was too far south, together with Feather's, Silverleaf's and Darkstone's. I could not join them there except without completely ignoring Elrond's asking me to stay in touch. Still, I regretted not being able to stay with them. Excepting Glinael and Glorfindel those four wild elves were the only close friends I could name.

Caladur's clan was far from a rhevain group, but less different from them than from my own people. It was a relief to forget about Imladris, the Rings and the great shadows of trouble lengthening for a while. Though of course only in a different way. As Caladur had said, the Noldor had made mighty enemies, of the sort that haunted all elves in Middle-earth. Trouble was never far, and the ways to deal with it not different from what I knew in Imladris. Each night the clan set watches, and scouts were a firm institution. Esgalmith, leader of the scouts, and Baran, the chief hunter quickly befriended me. They both spoke Sindarin, but we quickly returned to their native Silvan dialect because I wanted to learn it better. There were also Avari, and I learned some more Avarin, though I could find no real grasp of the language. Caladur's clan had one institution that was new – their gatherers were separate from the hunters, and most individuals with healing skills had drifted into the gathering-group. Caladur said he did not care who hunted as long as they brought meat back, but the matter had somehow solved itself over a few years. The healers realized they could not afford the slightest weakening or blunting of their skills if the small clan was to survive, and so the separation had evolved of its own accord. The leader of the foodstuff gatherers was an Avar called Hallfaron, and I enjoyed her company especially. For one, Esgalmith was her mate since last winter and neither of us would be mistaken for flirting when we teased and bantered on our hunts for roots, nuts and mushrooms. And she had a way that made me feel at home at once, though we could only talk in a mixture of Silvan and Avarin. It took me a while to realize exactly of whom she reminded me with her tart and straightforward mentality. Faire.

I grinned and did not tell her.

As we moved from one camp-site to the next, Hallfaron and I constructed a sledge-like contraption that Faire pulled, loaded with supplies and the light shelters the Silvan elves carried with them. The remainder of spring, summer and autumn passed in a flurry of days, and I had to think about crossing the pass before the hard snows set in. Caladur's course had led the clan first to the Hithaeglir's feet, where my company had met him, then south through rich forest and down to the wide meadows and the Anduin. From there we had returned in a north-western bend back to the mountains. My plans for leaving were interrupted by Esgalmith's dark announcement that his scouts had spotted orc-traces and those that had made them. It was a small encampment of orcs, very well hidden, and obviously often used. Esgalmith's mood was black, because they had so often passed by an orcs-nest right under their nose.

"They are not so many" he said angrily "Still we will have a hard fight. They are large. I have seen their armour. It is new. I left scouts to shadow them"

"How many orcs?"

"Fifty" he said dolefully.

"Oh" I said "Maybe Caladur should think on avoiding them and passing the winter further south in the vales"

"Not Caladur" Esgalmith shook his head "And this is our land. Further south are other clans. We would be tolerated, but it would be harder life. Deer only grow so fast and there is less forest there where we can find roots. Caladur's already called in a vote. Only a handful were against attacking, and they would join us when outnumbered"

"And you?" I asked carefully.

Esgalmith heaved a small sigh "I have no choice. We want to stay here, and I am scout-leader. I should not dispirit my own troops, hm?"

"No. Probably not" I smiled a little "Would it comfort you to know that you can command my sword as well?"

I had meant it as a joke, but his face lit up "You will fight with us? Really?"

"Er-" I said "of course? I wouldn't miss the chance to get bossed around by you in earnest"

"Am I so bad?" Esgalmith seemed genuinely concerned "Baran always tells me to stop having a go at you-"

I laughed "My, you are easy to fop! - I have my own grudge against the Mordor-maggots, Esgalmith. I look forward to fight for your clan"

°Now look where your fancy for 'homeless wood-dwellers' has got you° Faire said, unconsciously paraphrasing Hallfaron's words of this morning.

"You're in this with me, mylady" I said, rubbing her neck as we stood listening to Caladur's calm orders to pack the supplies securely, distribute them between the gatherers, and have the scouts and hunters ready for battle. He gave the separate groups their shifts and then turned to me "You must outrun the snows. Leave, before we get caught up in a stealth-and-track thing"

I blinked "Caladur, I won't leave at the eve of battle. I have lived with your clan all year, I won't slink off now"

"I know, that is why I order you. My people do not fight your wars. You need not fight our battles"

"Then I will flatly disobey your order. I am familiar with fighting in deep woodland"

"I suppose" Caladur stared at me for a while "I would be a bad leader to send an ally away. But a worse fool to tell a friend to go. If you are adamant to stay, you are welcome. Though I don't want to have your blood on my conscience, Elda"

I grinned "You underestimate my sword-skill, wood-elf. I cannot do fancy whirling with your scimitars but I can use a bow as much as a blade"

"Well then – add yourself to whatever group you choose. I recommend Hallfaron's though. They will use mostly blades"

"Hallfaron's?" I echoed, and he grinned "She leads the gatherers yes. But she is better with a sword than at healing. We will need every blade or spear we have. And I suppose you have never seen her fight?-"

"No"

"Well, don't worry. She commands the swords, Baran leads the archers and Esgalmith the spears. Though I daresay that may change yet. Depends on what the orcs do. What's that?"

I followed his glance towards the small commotion curiously "I think you have one more trouble"

Caladur growled and made for the far group just as someone called his name.

I was about to find Hallfaron a little later when someone came running after me "Gildor, Caladur wants you! He is at the great oak. They need a translator"

"A what?"

"Translator. They caught a spy. Or scout. I don't know. Now be quick"

There was a small gathering at the great oak as I approached, mystified. What fancy language could they want a translator for? For what reason?

I thought of rhevain as soon as I saw what – no, who – they had 'caught', as the messenger had said. A miserable, skinny elf, covered in mud that did not hide several serious wounds on his legs and belly. His hair was shoulder-length and unevenly cut. I was not sure about the colour, because mud and dust covered it with a greyish-brown layer. Where the mud was thinner or had been rubbed off I could see the winding lines of tattoos, though the whole pattern remained invisible. He was naked except for a ragged, dirty loincloth and frightened half to death. He did not look near as terrified as he was, though. Pride and a very strong will must have kept him from struggling, so instead he warily watched what was happening. He did not understand what was said, that much was also clear. Baran had just finished reporting to Caladur where they had found him, creeping around near the orc-camp on a trail the Silvan scouts had not yet picked out because it was well hidden under thick, waist-high greenery.

Empathy gave me an idea what to expect from their prisoner, but I was neither trained to use it nor did I relish the sensation. Reaching for his mind only gave me blank presence, and without touching him I could not say what the reason was for that. Very tight shielding, or something worse? I had once encountered slaves from Angband, and they had not been so fortunate as Darkstone to have escaped on their own, and by their own will, essentially free of all bonds the Shadow could have laid on them. I shivered involuntarily, but kept watching the stranger, trying to guess his origin. He was elf, so much was sure, though he was at least a head shorter than any of us. But he was neither Silvan nor rhevain. He would have recognized my pendant otherwise. I would have guessed Avar, but Hallfaron was here, and he did not speak her language nor had there been any other recognition. Neither could I guess his age, except 'young' in general. Then he looked at me, and for a moment our eyes met. His were dark grey, and there was something in them that made me catch my breath. _Dangerous_ I thought, but amended it to _strange_ a moment later. There was no threat in his gaze. At least the sensation of shock was two-sided. He dropped his eyes and would have backed away had he been able to. I watched him as he cast a haunted glance around at the Silvan Elves, and was surprised when he finally looked at me again. I could not say if that was what I had seen in his eyes before, but I spent most of my time with dark elves so that I had garnered an idea what they meant when they said they recognized one of my folk by our eyes.

"Do you speak this language?" I asked on a hunch, addressing him directly over the talk in Quenya. He gave a small nod "I speak" he said softly, somehow managing to make a hiss out of a word that did not contain a single 's'. Caladur had obviously not noticed me joining them and spun around "Gildor, when did you pop up?"

"Long enough ago to know what's happened"

"Well, ask him what-"

"Let him go first" I asked "They terrify him pinning him like this"

"Just because he speaks your language doesn't mean he won't betray us" Caladur snapped impatiently.

"They will let you go if you give your word not to try and run" I said to the stranger "There are archers up the trees who would shoot you before you took ten paces"

I saw a flash of anger in his eyes "I don't run"

Caladur gave his grudging assent. I thought they needed not fear any bolt from this elf. He could barely stand on his own without swaying at the moment.

"My name is Gildor" I said "I am guest of this clan. This is Caladur, who leads the Silvan elves here"

The stranger blinked, unguarded in surprise for a moment "You should not have done that. Your name, I mean-"

"That is my name" I said, suddenly understanding "I am called by my name" I could have asked what he was called now, but decided to test him "Tell us your name"

He hesitated "Raven"

That was the mannish word he used. The Silvan elves looked at each other in bafflement.

"That is not an elven name" I said.

Again he hesitated "That is what I am called. My name is…my own"

I nodded slowly "Where are your people? What are you doing here?"

"My people are…southeast. Far. The mountains…in your language they are called Orocarni. I am here…alone. I hunt orcs"

The Orocarni. I blinked in surprise. That was weeks and weeks of travel. A whole land of open plain and rolling woodland lay in between. I knew no one who had gone there, except Aragorn. And we had never talked about the lands there. I knew next to nothing of them, except book-lore. And so far, I had never heard or read of elves living _there_.

"What are they called?"

"We have no name in your language" he hesitated, and I waited if he would go on "We are…the mountain where we live we call Dark Mountain. It spouts smoke, sometimes. That would be the name…Dark Mountain-…tribe"

He met my eyes as he spoke, never for long, but enough that I could tell he was not lying. Perhaps he was not telling all the truth, but all that he knew how to say. Tribe was a strange way of referring to his people, but maybe he just did not know another word. His command of Quenya appeared limited more in speaking it than in actually understanding what I said. He was not listening hard to my words, but fighting to form his own. I could sense no shadow of fear or darkness on him, but I would have to touch him to be sure. The great terror I had sensed from him while the guards still held him was gone. If he was frightened of touch, I would have a hard time assuring Caladur and myself that this stranger was wholesome. He continued without us having to prompt him "I left my clan to hunt orcs. They raid on us sometimes, and we do on them. I followed them far. I did not intend to…enter their territory" he made a small gesture at Caladur.

"Do you now of the rhevain? The wild elves? You are…painted as one of them"

"I know them. We trade, sometimes. Not often. But their…paintings are different from…my people's"

"Tell me about the orcs"

He grew wary immediately "I hunt them" That was not enough to satisfy anyone, and he knew it. I could see him groping for words "I tracked them over the mountains. The western ones – Hith…aeglir, yes? For two…two hands of days"

He meant ten, holding up both hands. I nodded, and so he continued "They came down a…ravine. From there, they went into this forest. Here is…one of their camps. They have paths. I watched them. The paths. Then they caught me"

I summarized all this to Caladur, who shook his head darkly "He has not killed a single one. If he was the orc-hunter he wants to make us believe he should know you cannot kill a band like that all on your own"

"How do you came here, Raven, into the wood?" I asked instead "You eluded the Silvan scouts and crept as near the orc-camp proper as any sane man would dare. Caladur fears treason – what have you to unfound his doubts?" It was perhaps an unfair thing to ask from someone who fought with speaking the language so much, but he understood me well.

"I have nothing" he snapped, tension and anger mingling "I tell how I came here – from ravine down from mountains. I followed scent, orc-scent. They use hidden paths. They speak. I wait for their scouts to go out. I follow, and when one is alone, I kill him. I killed three. You find them west of here. There is…mud in a dell. Beech-forest. There I hid them. Go look" He paused "I don't know about treason. I kill them wolf-way. When they are alone. I cut them off. But I will fight with you, if you wish to attack them. I scout with you. Show you paths"

I repeated to Caladur once more, who frowned "There are more paths he says my scouts missed out so far?"

"That's what he says"

Caladur was silent for a moment "I have sent Esgalmith to scout with the stealthiest ones of the clan. He speaks some of your Quenya. When he returns, Raven will go with him and show those paths he speaks of. Esgalmith has authority to rearrange our order according to what they find. I want some archers following them up in the trees" The last two were orders. The people in question nodded.

"I will sent four with them when they go" Baran said, hearing the unspoken rest of Caladur's order as well. He did not send the archers only for Esgalmith's cover. If Raven turned out playing false, they would have him.

"Tell him Duath here will show him a place to stay until tonight" Caladur told me "I don't want him wandering around. And see that he gets something decent to eat before he starves before our eyes. But stay here, I need you a moment longer"

Once more, I relayed to Raven, who took the orders with equanimity, nodding mutely. Duath led him off, and I remained behind with Caladur.

"What do you say?" he asked gruffly, watching me beadily. I shook my head "He does not say all by any means, but he does not lie. It is…if he happened to betray us, it would not be by malice on his part but rather because he…would not see we thought it treason"

Caladur blinked "I wish you would speak plainly. The scouts would have shot him outright had he not happened to drop some Sindarin words as they challenged him. I take it he made no resistance to being captured, but mostly because they were within breathing distance of an orc-sentinel"

I hesitated "I cannot read his mind by force, Caladur. I can only say that I sense no immediate ill intentions towards us, nor any touch of the Shadow on him. He hides a lot, but it concerns…him alone. Though it was not his choice to be here now. He is angry to be captured, but most of it is fear. More I cannot say for sure"

Caladur had led me to the rough trunk of the great oak. He picked up a sword in a heavily worn sheath and a roughly cut bow that nevertheless showed great skill in the making. A quiver made of the whole fur of an otter went with it, filled with a number of arrows that had either a whittled tip or sharp flint-heads. This was neither rhevain nor Avarin work. It looked rough and simple, but as I held one of the arrows I saw that it was as straight as it could be and well balanced. The fletching of the tipped arrows was black, and heavy enough to balance the weight of the flint-head. The plain wooden arrows were lighter fletched, and would be of use only for short-distance shooting. The bow was of medium length, but harder to draw than it actually looked. It would shoot considerable distance. I returned the arrows to the quiver carefully and set it and the bow down again. Caladur held the sword out to me wordlessly. I took it, but did not draw the blade. It was a foreign sword, and I would respect that. Everyone else had held to that as well, I realized. The strange knot holding the patched sheath to the parry-hilt was untouched. The hilt and crosspiece were wrapped with rawhide, partly covered, but... "It is a Noldorin blade" I said in surprise "I have never seen the design, but I recognize the make"

"And how do you explain that?"

"Well, wouldn't he understand Quenya so well and speak it only a little less good I would say he killed the owner or scavenged on a battle-field" I said with a grin "But I don't think he did. Caladur, I will find out, but I need time, alright?"

He sighed "Yes, I know. It's just our time is precious short right now. Well, see what you can find out before I have to send him with Esgalmith. Fifty orcs are not what I want to have attack us at unawares"

"We are not at unawares" I said mildly "We know very well where they are"

Caladur smiled "Make off before _you _bust my control today"

Duath directed me where to find Raven, and I went to bring a bowl of hot stew and some fresh bread to him. Raven had used the opportunity of the small stream to wash, and then retreated to a safe space away from the water. Now that the mud was gone I could see his hair was actually black, and the sunlight filtering through the leaves cast bluish highlights on it. So that explained the curious name of Raven. It made some sense if you did not think of reeking battlefields and smoking ruins whenever you saw ravens. The lines tattooed on his arms, chest and back were black, not blue as I had thought. They resembled nothing I had seen among the designs of rhevain.

Raven twisted around into a half-crouch when he heard me approach. The motion somehow reminded me of Faire when she was startled. Without thinking I reacted as I would do then - I stopped short. Raven stared at me for a moment, and sat back down.

"Sorry for startling you" I held the bowl out to him and he took it slowly. He seemed uncertain, but also relieved that someone remembered he was there.

"Thank you. Never mind" he mumbled.

"When you go with the scouts tonight it will be a group of five, including you" I informed him, crouching down beside him. It felt odd talking Quenya to him, when even Glinael and I used Sindarin.

"You are sure you can find them the orc-trails you mentioned quickly?"

Raven nodded "But why tonight? If you hunt orcs, you should do so by day. They do not love the light. It is easier to surprise them"

"Esgalmith is supposed to lead the scouts" I said "He knows a bit of Quenya. But he is not back yet, so it will be after dark before you can set out"

I watched Raven virtually inhale the bowl of stew and offered to fetch some more.

"It is enough. Thank you" He smiled shyly "That was more than I had the whole last days"

"What happened?" I pointed at the deep scratches "I can give you some salve for that"

"No" Raven said uncomfortably "It's fine. I fell into a tree"

"What!" I asked, thinking I had not heard him right. The inquiry seemed to startle him "I fell into a tree" he repeated uncertainly "A dead tree. In a swamp"

"What the hell did you do in a swamp? I mean, you certainly looked like you have been there…"

"Hunting. I was clumsy. But the…mud was intention. It helps against flies. No, midges you say. It keeps them off"

"Oh" I watched him thoughtfully. That certainly made sense, but I had never seen that method in practice. And I was used to a lot, I kept thinking. One moon with Darkstone was worth a year with Bearclaw if one wanted weird things. "That is nothing I have ever heard of used by any elf"

Raven did not seem offended, only even more puzzled. "I am not an E-" he started out and broke off, blinking "What do you want?" he asked suspiciously, unwilling to say what he meant "I know you thought I was a…mól, yes? But I cannot prove that I am not"

I frowned. Now that was a curious statement. Could _he _read my thoughts? I had not been particularly well guarded against that sort of thing, knowing almost no one of Caladur's clan could mind-speak over a distance.

"You are fighting orcs" I said.

Raven glanced at me briefly "Of course"

"You know that would not be possible if you were…under the Dark One's spell"

"No" Raven looked aside "Maybe. I think not"

"Why are you killing them?" Not that it always needed a reason. It was enough the foul filth slowly took over everything that was Elven land once.

"That is my business, isn't it?" Raven asked, but without malice.

"Generally yes" I agreed "But right now not necessarily so"

"Revenge" he said after a moment.

"Revenge?"

"They killed…someone I knew very well"

"Hm. You popped up right under their best scout's nose. I can understand they are suspicious" I ventured.

Raven immediately got a closed look "I can't help when they are inattentive"

I raised an eyebrow "You ran into each other, didn't you?"

"Maybe. I used to be a better hunter" He glanced at me once more "Why do you not lead the scouts? You speak Quenya as well"

"I am only a visitor here. I will take my orders as Caladur gives them" I said "And he says Esgalmith leads. When they start the main battle I will take my part"

Raven did not appear convinced but remained silent.

"You can prove you are not one of the thralls other than fighting orcs" I said.

"I won't let you read my mind"

I looked at Raven for a while, puzzled he would come to that conclusion right away. Finally he looked up and met my eyes.

"So you know what I am talking about" I said "I do not want to 'read your mind'. How is it that you speak Quenya? And why do you carry a noldorin blade?"

Raven took a deep breath "There are…ancestors of your people in my…how do you call it? Line?"

I nodded.

"The sword was handed down. Now I have it. And so was the language"

He was speaking the truth, but again not the whole thing. He knew it, and he knew I knew it. Well, that was better than nothing. The thralls under the Shadow's dominion were not even aware of lying.

"Why is your name not Quenya?"

He shifted uncomfortably. I could sense I had touched a sore spot, some private pain.

"Why are you so brave to give others your own name?" he returned "Gildor?"

He pronounced it _Kil'tor_', and when I looked at him he asked "Do you know what that means in my own language? Desert Lion. I would ask what you are doing far from whatever place you belong, if I knew that was your name. But I do not know"

I digested that curious statement for a moment. I had talked to so many elves, and some stranger than the other, but never with someone like Raven. I knew he understood my words perfectly, and often read implications that required knowledge of those who first spoke this language. But then he foundered with simple question as that concerning the tree, and could not see when I meant something as a joke. When he answered or spoke of his own accord it was always as if he had to carefully place one word after the other, groping after them.

Had he meant to tell me to mind my own business, or had he just admitted that he was alone and frightened here? But then, he had given me another titbit of information which he obviously considered private. A word of his language.

"I have never seen the deserts" I said finally "But the lands I come from and which I know well are to the west of these mountains. And the place I would call home because I often stay there is there as well. It is a valley called Imladris. I have come here with six others, but they did not want to stay with Caladur's clan for the summer, and so they went back across the mountains before me"

"I have…I have heard talk of that place. Once, when I traded with some of your people" Raven said slowly. "My name is not Quenya because I chose it when with my tribe" he added abruptly "_Scree_ means raven in my language, and now it is Raven in westron because I trade with humans and Avari mostly, and they understand those words easier than Quenya or Sindarin"

I hid my surprise quickly. I had not expected him to react to my question at all anymore "So all names have a meaning in your language?" I ventured.

"Yes" he said slowly "Don't they have in yours?"

"Most have a meaning" I said "But many are just chosen for their sound"

He blinked, but I did not know if it was surprise or non-understanding "Oh" A little later "Does your name have a meaning?"

Now I hesitated "Yes" I said then, uncomfortably "It means something like 'mighty light'"

He seemed unaccountably startled. I felt suddenly self-conscious and added "Though I daresay I like the 'desert lion' better"

Once more, he glanced at me but then dropped his eyes again "Take that as your name then" he suggested "Your name is your own"

"My use-name you mean?"

"Yes…Your…your people have names given to them at birth as well, don't they?"

I nodded, and he added "You can't change those, that is right. But you need not give them to others to bind you"

For a moment there seemed to be very little distance between us. It was strange, because we knew nothing whatsoever about the other, and all we tried to find out was what potential danger the one might pose for the other. For the time being though mistrust seemed suspended. I seized the opportunity "I cannot read your mind if you do not let me in. I need only to touch you briefly to be able to say to Caladur that you intend no harm"

With a snap, his wariness was back. He suppressed a shiver, but I saw it nevertheless. I extended a thread of empathy towards him once more, as thin as I could make it because I had the feeling he would sense it and not appreciate it. There was an incomprehensible fear and black despair, but a second later it was gone. Still, he held out his hand. I could feel his shields quiver with the force he kept them up towards me as I laid my hand lightly in his palm. But I was not concerned with shields. I did not want to touch his mind, but to feel his presence. No, I had been right, no sign of the Shadow, none of the flinching that would come with hidden ill intentions. He was even unaware of the brief touch of Searching. He guarded against something I did not intent at all.

I lowered my hand. He was tensed as a bowstring, and I had the feeling he would bolt away from me if I made one tiny motion towards him.

"Thank you for your trust" I said quietly.

He glanced at me, and then nodded once, dropping his gaze hurriedly. He wanted to be alone, and I decided to be polite and absent myself after making sure he had everything he needed.

Esgalmith returned near dark. I told him what had happened, and while he gathered the scouts he was to lead in the middle of the camp, I went to fetch Raven. I took his weapons with me and gave them back to him. The archers were already in place, I knew. At least I had been able to assure Caladur with more than just 'a feeling' to go by that Raven was not going to get us into trouble. I hoped his archers had enough sense to act on that. With Caladur, I waited for the group to return.

They were not gone as long as we had expected. It was hardly past midnight when they returned. Esgalmith came to our fire, bringing an exhausted looking Raven with him. While they ate, Esgalmith reported "We found the orcs he had killed right away. He picked out three trails they use regularly, Caladur. We would never have found them. It is all crawling on your belly through ditches and brooks. We left the archers behind as we crawled nearer the camp. We startled a sentinel and had to kill it. Raven did it, just with a knife. I swear he kills without a sound. But there is more. We heard them talking, and Raven says they are waiting for a group to join them in a few days time. We should attack as soon as we can if we don't want to have more on our hands than we can handle"

"Raven says? How does he know?" Caladur frowned.

"He can understand some of what they say. I admit we have only his word yet that there are more – but you could send far-scouts. He says they are expected to come from the western edge as well. Baran knows the trails now. If you send him and Duath…"

Caladur shook his head "They would not be back before we attacked anyway"

"I could go" I said "Let Duath show me the trail, and with Faire I can outrun them easily when I have found them. Before they see me, of course" I added "I cannot follow the small trails with Faire, but if Raven gives me a few landmarks, I will find the orcs just as well"

Caladur mulled that over for a while. It was not the fact that we were making suggestions what he should do that had him hesitating, but that he was still uneasy with Raven's presence.

"I would be here" Raven said softly "If you go, and something turns out foul with what I say, he could kill me. That is what you are talking about, isn't it?"

"Not exactly. But I daresay he might consider that" I said bluntly, turning to him "What about it, Caladur? Raven stays here. I go and check on the reinforcement"

"That seems the wisest thing" Caladur said unwillingly "Alright, take Duath and go with your lady. Be careful, and as quick as you can. You may fight the battle under way if you return later. Raven, you will fight with us when we attack? Or are attacked?"

Esgalmith translated this time. Raven nodded "Of course. I would have picked them off one by one. But if you attack, it might wipe out the whole nest" he said hopefully.

When I got up, he glanced at me uncertainly "There is one more thing. I only thought of it now. There are Avari near. Maybe three days, northeast. I traded with them a little while ago, before they...caught me, here. They know of the orcs. They would join you…us, I think"

Esgalmith and I exchanged a look. Obviously the near Avari were news to him.

"Names?" I asked Raven, but he shook his head "I traded only foodstuff. We did not mention orcs. And no names"

"Tell Esgalmith their location" I switched to Silvan again "Caladur, can you send swift messages? There are Avari about three days from here, northeast, Raven says. Maybe they would help us. Esgalmith can translate where exactly they would be"

Caladur nodded, overriding his own surprise at the news "Get yourself gone. We will use all we have. I suppose we have no other choice"

I had my share of orc-speech. Grimacing, I hid near the groups reeking camp and forced myself to listen and translate their foul sounds. Raven had assumed they would join the ones in the forest. Now there had been a change of orders. I knew it had not been Raven's fault, because I had seen the messenger come into camp and now heard them opening the order-scroll and discussing it.

They were going to pass the group in the forest by, but both groups were supposed to meet up with a larger one east of the Anduin. That meant our group would leave the forest, and join the group coming down from the mountains. If we were quick, with the Avari to help we could intercept our orcs before they got out of the forest. They would never meet the mountain-group, and if these decided to come looking, come into the forest, we could kill them, too.

Faire carried me back to Caladur's clan with a speed that had me clinging to her back like a tick, burying my face against her neck to avoid the trees and branches slashing past. I dropped off her back stiff and weary and stumbled to find Caladur. Who I found first was Raven, whisking out of the shadows and startling both Faire and me silly.

"Our orcs will leave" I croaked, fumbling for my water-bag and trying to calm my racing heart "The ones from the mountains have orders to meet them beyond the forest, and all of them are to cross the Anduin"

He stared at me, visibly paling "I didn't-"

"I know you didn't lie" I interrupted "I saw their messenger arrive and heard them argue about the orders. We must be quick. Where is Caladur?"

"Come" he led me through the camp "The Avari are here. They have just arrived. They were closer than I thought"

He stayed by my side as I reported quickly to Caladur, making it clear that the new orders had been issued after Raven's overhearing the orcs here. A few orcs had already fallen to arrows of the scouts that had been placed along the new paths Raven had discovered. They knew now that they were watched, but obviously had not yet moved. Caladur immediately set to organize the battle-arrangements proper. There was no time to lay nasty traps, and so he positioned archers and scouts with slings in hiding both up in the trees as well as on the ground. Esgalmith went off to organize his spear-fighters to start the attack on the ground, after the archers had played out their surprise-effect. He took the Avarin leader with him, because many of the Avari wielded axes and wanted to be in the front attack as well. They were well equipped, I saw with relief, wearing good armour that would withstand the blows that would inevitably fall most heavy on the first attackers. The rest of us, sword- and knife-fighters, were supposed to come in as second wave of attack.

"And pair up" Caladur added "The Avari fight in pairs already. See that you have a back-guard. We cannot spare other fighters on foot to come in as that. Raven, you too. This was your idea after all"

The gathering dispersed busily. I swung round to face Raven "You heard him. We are the only one wielding heavy blades here"

Raven crossed his bare arms over his chest. "I'd rather fight on my own"

"Don't be silly" I snapped.

Esgalmith had overheard us "Not you be silly, right. You make suggestion, you go along" he said in heavily accented Quenya, then chuckled "You two had better spar a while, it will not do if he lops your head off. That is, if he fights as weird as he looks"

Raven cast an uncomfortable glance at Esgalmith and then at me.

"You want to fight, you pair up. Caladur won't have anyone going into this without back-guard" Esgalmith added briskly.

"So?" I demanded.

Raven dropped his eyes, but it was a long moment before he nodded unwillingly.

As always before a planned attack I felt tied up and short-tempered so to some degree I could understand Raven. What did I knew what memories the strange elf carried with him. For a long time afterSilmarusse's death I had found myself living through nightmares whenever I knew I would have to fight _then _and_ there _and_ thus. _It was far easier to hunt and kill orcs in an unplanned way than having to suffer scheming and planning before.

I was not happy knowing Fairё would have to keep out of the fight, but to fight on horseback would have been impossible in this forest, and the ground was too treacherous that I would have her stomping on orcs here. But no, that was notwhat troubled me. There as a subtle thing about the dark elf which I could not place at all. It had nothing to do with me not knowing Raven at all, or with the approaching battle. I was not particular wrought up at the prospect of _fighting _right now. Rather it seemed to concern myself - my _reaction_ to him.

So I waited, and tried to piece my reasoning together. My chosen companion was not forthcoming and extremely short-spoken right now, so I kept my distance and silence.

Raven did not speak. Neither did he _look _at anybody. Never really. All he did was glancing at people. That was it. I could not read him. All I could say about him only _seemed to be_ such and so. I would have expected the Avarin warriors to be some of a puzzle, maybe a threat, but none of them was as _closed_ as Raven. The Avari did not speak Sindarin well, but that did not keep them from talking. They laughed among themselves and even extended their jokes and their banter to us.

Can he laugh at all, I wondered sourly. So far he had kept a face like a stone cliff. Well, there would be time enough to find out when this was over.

Chapter Notes:

Silvan elves:

Baran – (S) "yellow-brown"

Hallfaron – (S) "veiled hunter"

Duath – (S) "shadow"

Caladur – (S) "dark light"

Esgalmith – (S) "mist-veil" ?

Sirlim – (S) "swift river"

Gildor's company:

Narandil – (S) "rat-friend"

Faenross – (S) "bright rain" ?

Glinael – (S) "sea-shimmer"

Rhiwlos – (S) "snow-storm"

_mól_ – (Q) slave in Angband

15


	27. Chapter 27 Circles

**Circles**

Raven's POV

TA 2907

This land was well guarded and the wolves here seldom dared to announce either their presence or their claim on territory. The nights were silent, unbroken by even the faintest howl. Though the whole clan buzzed around me in excitement, preparing for battle, I was utterly alone. I felt icy cold inside, and my heart refused to stop racing. I had been given me light leather armour of the kind these Silvan Elves wore, and I felt extremely uncomfortable in it. I had never before worn armour, and the sensation did nothing to ease me. The armour's edges cut into my arms and thighs, and for the hundredths time I thought of taking it off. Why fight like some shell insect, with as much agility as snail? Why risk a killing blow being turned into a maiming one by thick leather? I wanted a quick death, didn't I?

And this was my chance, a battle that was sure to be fought to the last orc, and cornered orcs were deadly enemies. Maybe I need not face the next morning.

I could not tell how long it had been since the night the orcs had killed my brother, or since I had left the orcs' camp. I had got revenge, thousandfold it seemed, since then, and I wanted more. Cold, straight-forward charges, but somehow I had always survived. It was absurd. And time and again, my mind replayed those charges to me, pointing out countless moments where I could have just _not raised _my sword to block a strike. Where I could have let it end.

But I had never allowed it. Instead I had wished with every kill I had the meanness to let them suffer. The wolf would not accept that, though. In his form certainly not, and even when I was unfurred the wolf kept me back. So besides feeling torn inside my Elven part I had also got the first deeply disconcerting experience of being at odds with the wolf part of myself. Prey deserved a quick and clean death, so did an enemy. So did even orcs. Well, not necessarily clean, but neither wilfully prolonged. I cut the thought off again. Anything that might jar the tenuous hold the wolf and his focus on the moment still had over me was deadly. Without the wolf telling me what to do I did not want to know what would happen

I wished for everything to end, just as the wolf wished to go on. I had my hands full keeping myself sane, and then this Elda had attached himself to me, firstly because I needed a translator and secondly because we had agreed on loose pairs to have an eye on the other's back during the upcoming battle. Absurd enough that this had happened after my own counsel. If any hunting group of Ashi'kha happened to be forced into face to face fight they would pair of in a very efficient system. We were no match for the physical power of an orc, even less the heavier man-orcs, so fighting in twos had proved fruitful. If you wanted to survive. But I did not!

And I was beginning to lose control of things, including my wariness. Gildor had kept an eye on me permanently since he had returned from scouting, and I could not say if he did so out of mistrust or if he saw more than I wanted him to know or guess. He frightened me. And at the same time the wolf strongly told me to stay near him, pushing me towards him with a power I could not completely fight. Desert lion. The name and the image kept following me, turning up in my spinning mind over again. It was curious that his name would have a nearly exact equivalent in my own language, and that it's meaning would fit as well. Desert lions were a dark gold, Onakir had said, and this Elda's hair was so much remindful of their manes and their colour. I had seen Eldar before. My own father was one of them. But I could not understand the shock I had felt when I had first seen this one. Maybe I had just been so confused and frightened when the Silvan Elves had caught me that his suddenly speaking Quenya had felt as if I had found a rock in a swift-rushing stream.

And then he had said his name, and not only did it have that meaning in my own language, it also meant in a little different words what our name for the Eldar meant. Calathaura. Mighty light. Blinding bright. It made no difference if the words applied to that were his Sindarin name 'Gildor' or our word '_khai'toh_'.

From father I knew only that the Eldar he had come from had lived in a hidden city, alone, cut off from all others and caring but little what went on outside their walls. But Gildor was here now, fighting rather for a people that were not even his own than to stay safely in the place he had named his home. He was strange. I feared him, with an ambiguity I could not understand. As the wolf feared fire I was terrified of the power I knew he had, that I felt whenever he looked at me with those cold green-blue eyes. They were not wolf eyes. They were too bright, too keen, and they saw too much. When a wolf looked at you, he saw quite clearly if you feared him or not, and he would act on that. But a wolf would only demand submission according to pack-law. _Khai'toh_ would judge you, and see what you wanted to keep hidden, and what he would do with that knowledge I did not know.

Yet, whenever I looked at him, trying to understand his intentions with the wolf's mind, I could find no weighing judgement in his gaze. I could not understand him with the wolf, because he was no wolf. But my understanding alone did not help me either. I knew too little to see what he felt. He was kind to me, and patient, and he did not show the mistrust the clan-leader had for me still. He had asked them to release me in the first place, and though I tried to hold back, the wolf felt eternal gratitude for him for that. In fact, the wolf did not fear Gildor as did I alone. Rather like what he would feel for a much stronger pack-leader, careful respect but mainly trust. Something about Gildor made the wolf want me to trust him. But my terror was greater. He kept watching me. He had touched me once already. I think I had managed to clutch my ragged shields together enough that he would sense nothing wrong. They had got torn with Niy'ashi's death, and I knew that any elf with some skills at mind-reading would be able to see through me if he happened to get close enough. Or rather, he would not be able to avoid it, were he not perfectly shielded himself. And physical contact would invariably multiply _any _mental signal. I had felt no pain from Gildor's touch, so I knew I had at least for that moment shut out any sign of Niy'ashi's death. He had not touched on that, and he himself had been shielded. And as for the wolf – Gildor had said he had not attempted to read my mind. I had hidden the wolf as deep inside as I could, so probably he had remained undetected as well.

The brief talk with him yesterday had exhausted me more than my whole trek across the dry plains. With a depth that had left me dizzy I had been relieved when he had gone. And with the same painful depth I sometimes wished he would touch me again, wildly hoping he might be able to set things to right again. But whatever he might do, whatever I might set my silly hopes on, he would then find the wolf!

I swore desperately. Gildor's presence rocked all my cramped resolutions, shattered my resolve to end this, and I had no hope of finding any reason to go on. Not alone. Not as I was. Though the wolf stubbornly assured me that I lived, that it was alright, and that it was enough. And the thought what might happen if they found out what I was frightened me just as much as the thought of the coming battle. I would rather die on an orc-blade than be caught as shape-shifter by these elves. I knew how little love the Eldar had for wolves, any kind of wolves. I knew from personal experience that the Silvan elves hunted wolves if they could. They did not kill us simply out of fear like the humans. At least they took the furs, but that would help me precious little. I would be hardly more than a demon to them.

And once more I could not understand my own doubts. I longed for an end. Did it matter so much how it came? If I died as wolf or unfurred, that was unimportant. Only I wanted it to _happen_. I wished fervently the signal for attack would come. I could not bear this running around of my thoughts in so many separate circles. It did not make me dizzy, it made me feel mad.


	28. Chapter 28 Orcslaying

**Orc Slaying**

Raven's POV

TA 2907

The signal for the archers had just passed through the ranks. The Avari demanded to be allowed to go first, right after the archers had stirred the orcs up, and Caladur had contested their demand. There was no time for that. So Esgalmith now kept his group back, waiting instead to finish off the orcs that fought through the Avarin ranks. When more and more came through he gave the signal to move forward and close the ring. I tensed, waiting for Caladur to command the knife- and sword-fighters to form a third and fourth ring. When I looked up I found Raven behind me, ready for battle. And without armour. I rounded on him "Are you mad? You cannot run into this half-naked!"

"I can"

"And what use is a back-guard who does not survive the first attack?" I snapped "Go back and put that damn armour on!"

Raven visibly braced himself "You are in no position to order me"

"Raven, stray arrows do not care for who commands who" I tried to push him back but he shied away from me like a frightened horse. Then Caladur's whistle sounded, and I could do nothing but let him come with me as he was. We struggled through thorny thickets for a moment. When sighting allowed it an occasional orc in the melee was taken out by an arrow out of the darkness.

Fighting orcs did not waste much thought on surviving. As we closed the rings the battle swiftly turned into massacre. For a long while I was only hewing, wheeling, striking, and avoiding swishing blades and axes. Raven seemed glued to my back, following each move with a swiftness that surprised me deeply. I did not see much of his style of fighting as a result, but what I saw made me dizzy. Though he held his blade two-handed he was incredibly fast.

I had been trained in times of relative peace, long before anyone had really used a blade to kill, and I still tended to see sword fighting as a kind of lethal dance. Deadly but graceful. I had learned soon enough that any real fighting against orcs lacked system and, for the most part grace. But to survive effectively some fluid motion was still needed - and some of it still recalled dancing. The way everyone found his own motions in that I had come to regard as _style_. And at one time or other style could become predictable. Which was deadly in a longer battle.

Raven seemed to have none of that. No move of his was predictable, at least not in a way I could yet see. Raven's anticipation of the orc's reactions was disconcerting. If he failed in that, he did not wait for an opening in the orc's defence and created one recklessly. Then he drew back when the orc thought he would attack. He switched and reversed blows, one-handed or with both hands, ducked blows that could have been countered and met others with ringing blade that I would have ducked out of. But he never did that at moments I thought he would. Or the orcs did, for that matter. He felled double the number I got. And all the while less than four orcs came ever close to make an earnest attempt to strike at my back.

I at least had armour. Glancing blows or slipped strikes could skid off the metal-enforced leather pieces. I had to admit that armour of any kind would have hindered Raven's uncanny agility and his way of mean fighting that often found him rolling on the ground or dropping down in order to swipe at feet or shins. Something someone heavily armoured had better avoid in battle as chances were he never got to his feet again.

Only few blows had actually gone through my armour slipped into its gaps. Raven had not even bothered to avoid lighter or stray swipes. It was a wonder that he was still on his feet, and now things turned really nasty. The remaining orcs, mostly steel and leather padded tall ones, gathered to sell their lives dearly. Unlike the smaller breed the large orcs tended to fight strategic rather than in relying on sheer numbers. They were harder to handle, and far stronger.

A whole head taller than Raven, and probably twice as heavy. I wished I could send him out of this. We were separated by an orc crashing between us, and the silvan elf hewing at him was in turn followed by another orc. I twisted to the side and tried to stab the stumbling orc in the back, but my blade glanced off the orc's back plate with a screeching sound.

Steel, then, not leather. With all the dirt and blood covering orcs and Elves alike by now it was hard to tell from sight. The strike was ill guided and I had to struggle for my balance as the orc turned to face me. I lost sight of Raven. The orc roared at me, baring yellow fangs, and I found myself on my knees countering a ringing blow from the notched blade of my opponent when from somewhere out of the surrounding bushes an arrow sliced into the orcs's throat. The orc let go of his scimitar and clutched at the shaft. I jerked my own blade up and drove it under the orc's breastplate, staggering to my feet and yanking the sword up in the process. The creature made a gargling sound and I kicked him aside, ripping the blade back.

This. Someone shouted my name and I whirled, catching sight of Raven who was spread-eagled on the ground, a huge orc just kicking his blade to the side and raising its own. Somebody shoot him, I thought frantically and launched myself towards the orc. One arrow glanced off the dirty armour before the dark brown arms crashed into me as the orc brought his blade down. My impact at least broke his killing strike of force though I knew I could not have turned it completely. _No time._ I heard Raven scream something, but could just throw myself on the ground and to the side as the orc twisted and buried his scimitar's jagged tip in the earth beside my head. He ripped it out with a roar, and slammed again. I was hindered by a slipping plate of armour and realized one of the straps holding it in place must have torn. The orc gave me no time to get up, and I twisted on the ground, desperately avoiding the slashing blade and trying to kick the orc's legs out from under him.

An arrow thudded into the ground, missing my opponent by an arm's length and me by a hand's breadth. Both of us growled in fury, though for different reasons, then out of the darkness Raven slammed into the orc's back. He was sprayed with black orc blood, mingling with his own red. He grabbed the orc's thick hair and jerking the creature's head back drew a gleaned orc knife across its throat. Blood spurted over me, and a moment later Raven was beside me and roughly pulled me to my feet. I was briefly amazed at the strength in his skinny body. He looked little better than the creature he had just killed, but there was a dark dangerous glint in his eyes that suddenly made me shiver. He brought his face close to mine and hissed "Damn you for that"

Another shrill whistle made us both flinch. There was something. Something I should notice –

Then Raven released me and whirled in the direction of the sound. Retreat. He stood rock still staring after a few retreating orcs, panting. They would gather for a last attack. orcs never _fled. _I could not place the look on Raven's face. I grabbed his arm and pushed him forward into the undergrowth. I heard Esgalmith shout for the scouts and the archers to follow, then the Avarin commander shouting for his own fighters to follow. Caladur's order to retreat remained. Raven was obviously considering following them, so I pushed him forward again. Caladur's fighters gathered in a small clearing beyond the bushes. The original orc-camp, I realized.

"We stay here" Caladur ordered, his tone boding ill for any objection "Hallfaron, those who can handle bows, send them to watch us. Baran's archers are all gone forward. Light a fire. Sirlim, get the healers"

After a moment of milling a fire was lit with brands taken from orcs' fires, and those who had healing skills started treating the wounded. I divested myself of the damaged armour and made my way across the resting place. People were shouting, orders for water given, and a group of Silvan Elves appeared that had not taken part in the battle. They carried water skins and some rags for binding wounds. Sirlim gave tart orders for certain herbs and salves while others scoured the neighbourhood for surviving orcs and wounded elves. Slowly, a few wounded trickled in on their own. Caladur was everywhere, demanding facts from anyone who had some to offer.

"Sirlim, how many dead?" he barked when healer passed him.

"None so far" Sirlim shot back "So keep out of my way and it will remain so"

I grinned, then caught a glance of Raven in the general uproar. He was just rising from where he had crouched on the ground to shove an insistent healer away. I hurriedly made for the pair. When the elf said something and clearly did not intend to leave the dark elf be Raven snatched his sword off the ground and pointed it at the silvan elf.

"Get your hands off me and to those that need and want your services, damn it" he snarled in Quenya. In the few days I had known Raven that was the first time he had raised his voice above speaking level. The healer looked blank. I closed the remaining distance between us and gestured for the angered healer to leave. Raven rounded on me, but at least kept his sword's point low.

"You'd have rightly been his first choice" I said angrily.

"You" Raven hissed furiously, advancing on me "You have meddled in my affairs enough! You should have let me _die_!"

He abruptly fell silent and turned, walking away. I grabbed his arm and jerked him back, feeling him flinch as I did so.

"A word with you" I demanded with an equally soft hiss. I tried probing with what healing skills I possessed. Something. Just a moment and I would have it -

"Let me go" Raven's voice dropped to a deadly whisper.

"Come with me _now_"

Raven jerked his arm free and stepped back. For a moment I was sure he would attack me. But he only stood there, panting.

"I am here" he snarled "Talk then"

We stood in the middle of people running here and there. My patience was nearing its end and Raven's absurd behaviour set me on edge "Come with me"

I turned towards the edge of the clearing. When I looked back after a few steps, Raven had not moved. For a moment I was at a loss. I was not an army commander, I was no expert in dealing with dark elves, I did not know why I bothered with this one. I strode back until I was almost nose to nose with Raven.

"Why?" I demanded "Why should I have let you die?"

Raven blinked in surprise. I thought he would answer, but then he simply looked away, turning his head to the side.

"Never mind" he said abruptly. "And do me a favour and leave me in _peace_"

I clenched my hands in frustration. What to do with this dark elf!

"Very well" I snapped "I will come back when you're reasonable"

Raven snorted. I went to the fire to get something to drink and find some healer to look after _my _wounds. Judging from the burning feeling of them most of the orcs' blades had been poisoned. I wondered how long Raven would take the pain until he _wished_ for a healer. Beside the numerous smaller cuts he had a deep, bleeding gash from his throat to his belly, result of the killing stroke I had barely kept the orc from completing. Deep enough that the loss of blood should also affect him beside the poison, if not now, then soon. Well, I would see. Leave him to stew for a while, maybe then his temper had cooled down somewhat.

4


	29. Chapter 29 Raven

**Raven**

Raven's POV

TA 2907

I crouched on the ground, as far away from the centre of the gathering as I could manage. I could not remember ever feeling so miserable as now.

I could't live, I couldn't even manage to die!

And Gildor would not leave me be. Being surrounded by all these people was unsettling enough, and I felt my guard slipping time after time. I was hurting all over. And worst of all, I should not be here at all. So close…For a second, I had been so close…

This frustration was almost too much to bear. I wanted to scream, but I could not even keep myself from shaking.

I got to my feet with some effort. It was no use to stay here. The healers would be after me like blood hounds as soon as the seriously wounded were treated, and they would be aware of my state the moment they touched me. That was unacceptable. A horrible thought. Worse than going alone. Now.

I stared at my sword – Niy'ashi_'s sword _-, still black with orc blood. I had not the courage to run myself onto it, I thought with disgust.

LeaveThat was it. Just away from the talk, the people - the fire. _Now._

I pushed the wolf's awareness back with some determination. I do not want to survive, I snarled silently. Go away.

No one here had the power to command me. The battle was over. There was no reason they could still fear my treachery. There was no one left I could have betrayed them to anyway. The former rearguard was rounding the last orcs up at the moment.

I would go where I had come from. Wherever that was.

I circled the fire, forcing myself to return the smiles and acknowledge the approving comments about my fighting. I could not find the Captain, so I reported to the second in command, scratching the few bits of Sindarin I had together. I left before anyone could call me back or attempt to order me to stay.

There was no telling if stray orcs still lurked near. That was what the Silvan Elf said. I shrugged the objection off. Never mind the implications. They had never trusted me, and what was it to me, anyway?

The forest was quiet and mercifully dark. That alone merited the risk of leaving on my own. I had to get away from Gildor. Desperation reached a level I had not thought possible after Niy'ashi's death. The wolf was almost too strong. It had taken all the willpower I had left to refuse Gildor's order. It felt as if I had the wolf on a leash while he strained with all his might towards the Elda. The wolf screamed at me in helpless frustration. I gritted my teeth and walked, biting my lip as I felt the sword harness scrape over several raw places and gashes. I would not walk that far tonight.

Gildor's POV

„That's it" Sirlim wrapped a bandage around my arm and tied it "You should take some rest"

"Hm. Thank you" I quickly went in search of Caladur before Sirlim could become more insistent in his demand for me to rest. I found only Esgalmith and a group of Avari beside the fire.

"Where's Raven?" That seemed to be my favourite question these days.

They all shrugged "Thought he was with you"

I sighed in frustration "Where Is Caladur?"

"I am in charge at the moment" Esgalmith said "Caladur's gone with the scouts now. I think we got all the orcs, but you know there's no telling with this rat-folk"

"So where's Raven?"

The silvan elf gave me a puzzled glance "He left. Less than an hour ago, I think"

"He left?" I echoed "Why did you let him?"

"Because, as he pointed out, I had no authority to _keep _him. He asked if there was likely to be more fighting and I told him _we_ would not go after the other orcs, that was the scout's job now, and anyway Caladur had given his orders, so he said he needed not stay. Thought you knew"

"Darn. And where did he go? Did he give you a direction?"

Esgalmith shrugged "No. He said he would go towards the hills. Told him he should not go alone, and he said something like he wasn't, so I assumed you knew where he went and were going with him"

"No. _I_ don't leave while I am under orders! And did you have a look at him? He had quite some time in the battle. And many orcs had poisoned blades. It is mad to leave like this"

Esgalmith frowned "Calm down. He looked alright"

"I was his back-guard, remember. I know he took enough hits not to be walking happily away right now. What I mostly think is, no one in his right mind would try to travel woodland at night after a battle with orcs, alone. There -. It's not even orcs alone"

We both listened. Wolves howled, not very far away.

"This is wild country. They sometimes come here, especially in autumn or winter" Esgalmith said, but then added "You think we should send someone to look for him?"

"No" I decided quickly "I wanted to leave anyway, though not at the eve of a battle. If he goes towards the hills, that is my direction as well. Maybe I can catch up with him"

Fairё took some time to reach the makeshift resting place after I had called her. Until she arrived Caladur had come back as well.

"I don't think we let any escape" he said with satisfaction "There will be no messenger to the group in the hills"

"Raven has gone off on his own" Esgalmith said. Caladur wasn't happy "Then send someone after him!" he demanded "I don't want him tramping around the forest tonight. What about this?" he added when he saw Fairё coming up.

"You don't need to send someone. I have to go anyway if I don't want to risk getting snowed in up there" I told him "With Fairё I'm bound to catch up with him. Either to keep him from mischief or he will be glad someone takes the trouble to look by then"

Caladur shook his head "That strange guy. But good luck. I hope your trouble for him is worth it, Gildor. There are wolves around now as well. We saw them skulking around the dead orcs. If you don't find him, don't camp out on your own, come back"

"Don't worry about the wolves, Fairё can deal with that. And he won't have gone that far" I fastened my packs to her saddle and secured the knots carefully. Then I slung bow and quiver across my shoulder and cinched my sword-belt tight over that harness. In combination with damaged armour that was not comfortable, but better than going without. I left Fairё with Esgalmith and quickly said farewell to those of the clan I had come to count as friends, then took leave of Caladur. It galled me to leave in such a hurry. Fairё picked her way slowly through the dark forest and I could not hang on to my dark thoughts because I had to use all of my tracking-skills to see where Raven had gone. The track was barely visible, and it was mostly Fairё's nose that kept us on course. I was tired, and the night was getting old when we heard wolves again. Fairё flicked her ears uncomfortably. That was pretty close I readied my bow and kept an arrow ready as she continued onwards. I felt watched, and Fairё was tensed.

°Ahead° she told me suddenly °Wolves eat°

We had to pass them by anyway. So did we go the long way round or believe they would be good wolves and leave us be?

'Raven's track?'

°Ahead, too°

'Ahead! Let's have a look'

Fairё gave a low grumble and started forward. We both flinched when there was a crunch in the undergrowth and a wolf bounded across the path before us to vanish into the forest again. Fairё flattened her ears in irritation. Eventually we came out into a clearing which bordered on a small hill of jumbled blocks of rock, thickly overgrown. In the middle lay a partially eaten carcass of a deer. Three wolves were there, and they turned and growled. One of them approached threateningly, but stopped at a safe distance when Fairё whinnied and advanced, stamping her fore hooves.

No reason to anger wolves, I thought uncomfortably. We should go.

Fairё nevertheless walked towards the carcass at my bidding and indeed the wolves retreated. I cautiously got down to examine the ground of the clearing.

_Where there are wolves, there is trouble. _Raven's tracks were crossed by wolf tracks. That was not good at all. He had been badly wounded, and they smelled blood against the wind. But would they have attacked him?

One of the wolves lingered by the edge of the clearing. I considered shooting, but that would not have been fair as long as there was no real attack.

Was I considering wolves fair?

"Ho!" I cast a stone in its direction "Don't you even think of approaching" I muttered as I rounded the carcass, seeing Fairё move to shield my other side from attack. The grass around the deer was bloody and the smell was powerful. The eyes were not even glazed over. It was a very fresh kill. The wolves would not be happy that I kept them from it.

More tracks by the rocks. As I crouched to examine them further another wolf came out of the thicket from behind the rocks, only a few arm lengths away, growling.

'No, Fairё' I stopped her attack with a thought and snatched my bow up, aiming at the wolf 'Stay at my back'

Before I could decide whether to shoot there was a rustle in the bushes.

"Don't" Raven's voice ordered me in sharp Quenya. A moment later the dark elf appeared from his hiding. He held his sword loosely in one hand and steadied himself against the rocks with the other.

"Leave her" He looked at the wolf, and it turned to leap back into cover. Then he turned to me.

"What is that about?" I demanded "We feared you would end as wolf chow or orc bait. What the hell are you _doing_ here? Talking to them?"

Rave shrugged "I have taken a rest"

He cast a glance at Fairё "And _you_ talk to your horse" Another look over my shoulder, obviously checking if we were alone.

"What the hell are _you_ doing here?" Raven flopped down on one of the protruding rocks and let go of his sword "Did Esgalmith tell on me?"

If Raven had hidden his trouble well before, he failed miserably now.

"I made Esgalmith tell" I said "What did you think, sneaking off like that? If you are the orc hunter you made us believe, you would know this is madness"

"I made no one believe anything" Raven snapped "I fought with you, and more I did not promise. Leave me be"

"Look, I have not tracked you through half Middle-earth tonight to get such a stupid answer. I give you two reasons, dark elf. One, we did not trust you and wanted to know what you were up to. Two, _I _know you are in no condition to travel so I followed. And now answer me. Where are you going?"

I sensed the dark elf's anger. Raven got up "What is it to you? I do not ask for any of your meddling. But I will give you two answers, master. One, you can keep not trusting me because it is nothing of my concern. I have not called any orcs on your track nor am I planning on doing so. Two, my condition _is _my concern, and only mine, as is my destination. And I have no special destination, by the way. I stop where they do, that is it"

Raven had got slightly out of breath with his rapid tirade. He clutched the edge of the rocks and a little reaching with empathy told me he was once more hiding fear behind anger. But the _why _simply escaped me.

And why did I trouble? Just why? Because I liked riddles and wanted this one solved? Because I felt obliged to offer help even when it was not wanted? I couldn't believe I had become so unselfish!

No. But I remembered what I had sensed that moment when I had touched his hand yesterday, the bleak despair he had been unable to hide. He angered me, and I could not understand his strange behaviour, but I was drawn to him.

"You were going towards the mountains, I take it" I returned "As it happens, that is our way too… In any case, _I _do not intend to go back, nor to go on alone. _I _do not talk to wolves, and there are too many here for my taste. You are saddled with us"

I could see I had Raven cornered. He was not one to fight with words and now obviously was at a loss what to reply. I had seen that look before, whenever Raven had felt overtaxed by some situation.

"We cross the pass together" I said "That is where one alone is likely to get ambushed. After that, I don't care where you are going. Is that a deal?"

Raven gave me a helpless glance, taken aback. He closed his eyes for a moment.

"Alright" he said reluctantly "Alright, damn it"

The wolves remained behind with the kill as we left. For a long while I went behind Raven silently, resting one hand on Fairё's shoulder. I felt incredibly tired but would certainly not propose a rest before Raven did. I watched Fairё's ears swivelling as we walked. It was near dawn when Raven halted finally.

°I watch° Fairё told me as I flopped down and wrapped my cloak around me. Raven glanced at me but said nothing about setting a watch. He declined the offer of a blanket and rolled up in his own tattered cloak.

He woke me in the late morning "Let's go on"

It was overcast and cold. We walked all day without stopping or talking. In the afternoon I mounted Fairё and rode for some distance. Raven refused. The land was climbing steadily upward now. We were keeping a brisk pace, and I decided to wait and see how long the stubborn dark elf would be able to keep it. There was no sign of the wolves, though we still heard them howl occasionally. Neither were there orc traces to be seen.

An early dusk came.

At times Raven seemed to walk as if in a dream, but not the tiniest sound escaped him. I could make nothing of him. He said no word, never looked at me directly, and always kept at least an arm's length distance between us. His wounds were still bleeding and there were dark patches where the thin garment was soaked.

I caught up with him as he dropped to his knees by a small stream. With a tug Raven loosened his sword harness and let it drop to the ground behind him. After drinking a little he splashed himself with water and washed out the cuts he could reach.

"We should rest somewhere" I said when he was finished and sat back on the low bank, burying his head in his hands. Fairё went down to the water and drank her fill.

Raven was watching her "Not yet" he said absently "Cave is across the pass" He raised his head and shook it in the direction uphill. When he made no move to get up I sat down a little distance from him.

"The orc blades were poisoned" I repeated

"I know. Often are"

I shook his arm lightly. Raven flinched and jerked away "Don't do that"

"You have a nice fever. And you are badly shielded"

"I have not" Raven got up and slung his sword across his back again "Let's go"

"Wait"

Raven moved on. I got to my feet and summoned whatever authority I might have to command a stranger, bolstering it with irritation.

"Stay, Raven" I snapped.

Raven stopped, his shoulders hunched. He did not turn around.

"What is up with you?" I demanded. "You flinch at every touch. You avoided the healers for that reason. Don't tell me you don't. And your shields are – _tattered_. That does not _just happen_. I have watched you. You are very careful to avoid anyone coming closer than an arm's length. What are you hiding? What are you _afraid _of?"

Raven turned, slowly. Despite his obvious weariness defiance radiated from him.

"Nothing you would care to find out"

He bit off every word.

"Raven"

He took a step back and I halted, not wanting to drive him back.

"Gildor, please" he said softly "I can give you nothing. Not even gratitude that you saved my life. The wisest thing you could do is go back to your people"

"_My_ people? And what about your people!"

"And leave me be" Raven shook his head and turned away "Let's find that cave"

We rested once more towards dawn. Raven accepted some of the food I had taken with me from the clan. Towards midday we went on. A thin cold wind blew down from the mountains and steadily into our faces. Fairё walked with her head low and her ears flattened in discontent, silent as well.

"We will have crossed the highest point of the pass by midnight" Raven decided, stopping and surveying the mountain before us. He clutched his cloak around himself and walked on, one arm pressed across his chest. He was doing something, I could tell that, to draw energy from the land around us. I knew very few healers could do that, and those who could seldom did. There were lots of things connected to the land, they said, and to take energy directly from that was dangerous. Pure healing energy always came from inside the healer and was his own. Only less powerful or instinctive healers resorted to that direct method. So much for the theory. But I had never heard that it worked to supply one's _own_ energies.

Dusk fell once more. The way was steep and soon we had to walk in single file. When we came to a wider place and stopped for a moment Fairё pushed forward °Ride° she ordered °Both of you°

I was puzzled but did not argue. Fairё was picky whom she carried, and up to now she had only twice allowed someone else than myself or Glorfindel on her back.

Raven was horrified.

"No!" he said, half backing away "Not on her. I – I can't ride at all. You go ahead"

"Certainly not. Come here, I give you a hand up. You don't need to be rider if she decides to carry you" I grabbed his shoulders and pushed him towards Faire, pointing ahead "You see that pass? Think about it if you want to lug yourself up there or have it the easy way"

Raven balked, looking as if he wanted to answer something, but he gave in after a moment. He put his hands on Fairё's back and looked up, obviously frightened by her height. He could not look over her back and had to reach far up to touch her withers. I swung myself up behind him, grateful for the additional warmth of Faire's body. Riding like this there was no way of avoiding physical contact and I felt Raven's panic mount with every step we climbed higher. Still, he said nothing and only stared ahead.

Raven's POV

There was something going on between Gildor and his horse. They were mind-speaking, but I could not fathom about what. I clung to Fairё's mane and prayed the pass would end soon. I had once sat on a trader's cart horse as it plodded comfortably along, but Fairё was anything else than a cart horse. Not only in greater height, but her back was slimmer and differently muscled. Without knowing about horses I could tell she was not for pulling or carrying loads but for speed and fighting. I could also sense her shielding herself against me. Wolves could mind-speak if they were bespoken first, but they had no shields or anything. Faire had. If she shielded against me I didn't have to shield against her, but it did little to put me at ease.

I closed my eyes and concentrated on the horse's motion. I was terrified of Gildor suddenly. I could feel his power, his strength. I clung to what shielding I had until my head hurt from focussing on it so hard. Time slurred. There was only the wind across the mountains, breaking in the cracks and around the peaks. It took a long time until I became aware that Fairё's motion had shifted. She was climbing downhill. I pried my eyes open and saw we were in a wide sloping valley, bordered on both sides by bare rock walls. At the bottom a shallow brook ran, and the path went through knee-high bushes and grass. A few scattered firs dotted the meadows and climbed up the rock walls. We had passed the highest point. This was the place we were likely to get ambushed, Gildor had said. _Right. _I blinked and forced myself to concentrate on the landscape. I stretched my senses and looked for any kind of disturbance. Nothing. In a way I was absurdly grateful Gildor had been such a prime nuisance to me before. The pass grew into infinity, and I knew alone I would have had to rest at least twice in this valley. With Fairё's brisk walk we would make it towards the cave before dusk. My hands were numb with cold and from clutching the wiry hairs of her mane. I felt hot, but had to try to suppress shivering. My whole body felt raw, and alternately hot and cold. I began to find Gildor's presence behind me very reassuring. Slowly, my thoughts turned into coherent lines once more. We would reach the landslide soon. In the cave, we could rest without worrying about orcs for some time. In the cave…

"Gildor" I said, suddenly realizing what had been nagging me "When we rest at the cave, there…there is a landslide…I don't think…Fairё can cross that"

"Oh" Gildor was silent for a while. I could not tell if he was talking to Fairё.

"We'll rest here first" he decided. Fairё halted and ambled down to the brook after we had dismounted. I took a stone and scratched a rough map on a flat piece of rock "This is the pass. It comes out here. That is right in the plain. The cave is here further to the south. We would cross the landslide southward then and come down the mountainside here. There is forest near the mountains. We could find cover there"

Gildor nodded thoughtfully "Seems we have to decide now how we are going on. Is it _we_ or _you_ and _I_?"

I glanced at him. Two days ago I would have said most certainly _you _and _I _without hesitation, but right now I was not so sure "I think" I said finally "_We _could go on, for a while at any rate. Just _where _we would have to decide still"

Gildor stared at the crude map on the rock.

"I remember that landslide vaguely. The pass would be the logical and safer choice. We would come down near Imladris"

"That is…your people…a lot" I stammered, lacking the Quenya words to say I could not imagine going to a place where there were stone-buildings and more people than my whole clan consisted of. Gildor had mentioned the valley, once, back with the Silvan Elves. He had counted on spending the winter there. But the notion of going there was – worse than anything I could think of. To take my course would mean to go away from the valley.

Gildor's POV

Raven and I would come into the plains near a small cottage my company shared with other wandering groups and kept stocked with wood and supplies for a few nights' rest. I could aim for that as a first shelter, and then see what Raven was going to say. But that would mean separating from Fairё.

'What do you think?' I asked when Fairё returned from her drink and started to pluck some moderately tender sprouts from the tough mountain bushes.

°I not cross boulder field° she stated °Can't. You decide°

I sighed silently. Of course I decided. Well, she was probably the only female who would not argue about my decisions 'Will you go on to Imladris, then?'

°Of course° she added an image of the stables and a bale of hay, giving a mental chuckle °I take you to edge of field, then go on°

It was early afternoon by the time we neared the end of the valley and stood before a huge field full of whitish grey boulders. The landslide had been static for a long enough time for little saplings to sprout up in some of the cracks. Between the sharp edged boulders uncounted gaps in different sizes yawned.

We had rested at dawn, but neither of us had slept. Fairё had left us at the edge of the boulder field. She had been weary, but obviously still had enough energy to speed off at a dead run after taking leave of me. I watched her pale coat disappear among the firs and boulders wistfully. Not that I needed to worry for her. She was foraging and wandering on her own whenever she was not with me, and when she stayed in or near Imladris while I was gone. She could take care of herself. I took some time rearranging my pack now that I would have to carry it myself and tried to decide how I liked this turn of things.

Raven looked at the edge of dropping dead somewhere. He had not spoken since last night. I felt bad enough myself, tired, dirty and uncomfortably aware of overstretched muscles. Mostly I wished for a hot bath.

Raven made a vague gesture across the field. "Somewhere there now"

I watched apprehensively as Raven began to make his way across the huge, jumbled rocks barefooted before I followed him. It grew darker and a drizzle began to fall. We did not seem to make any visible progress in any direction. I began to feel like some insect scrabbling across an endless space. We went in a line parallel to the mountain first before Raven started to descend. Despite a few dangerous sways he crossed the landslide without slipping once. Far down and on the other side a bare rocky hill reared up. Raven rounded its foot to a place where a small rivulet of water trickled down the rock. He stopped there, standing still for a moment before heading for a nondescript spot some distance below us. Raven inspected the large hole between three jammed boulders and nodded "This will do"

I cast a dubious glance into the blackness. The Valar knew what might be in there. Raven caught my gaze.

"It's quite big inside"

With that he crouched and slipped in head first. Unwise, if you didn't know where you were going.I had to take off my weapons first before I could follow, the other way round. Adjusting my eyes to the darkness found that Raven had been right. The cave had a comparatively smooth floor and stretched back below the blocks visible from the surface. Though the jagged boulders made for uneven sides and a low ceiling there was enough space for two to sit and sleep stretched out.

"You are sure this won't come down right on our heads any time soon?"

Raven gave another shrug "It's been here for years, it won't collapse just tonight"

I sighed and pushed my pack against the wall as a cushion.

_Wonderful. _

_A _cave

_Just my dream._

9


	30. Chapter 30 The Cave

**The Cave**

Raven's POV

TA 2907

Gildor had lit a small fire, and the confined space forced me into closer proximity to the flames than I wished. I was not particularly afraid of fire, anymore, but the wolf was. Panicked, almost. Right now, the wolf was stronger than me.

Fire was danger. Power. It came out of nothing and vanished into nothing, it was almost nothing, yet it had the power to kill. I could call it, make fire, but I did it only to prove to myself I could. To not be afraid of it.

I had seen forest fires, fiery mountains, grass fires.

Every living thing feared fire.

The Ashi'kha had no fire, except for a very few rituals, or great feasts.

It was evening. The few hours until dusk had brought a change of weather. I felt it uncomfortably, unable to close the sensation out. If I wanted to remain aware of the land, I could not raise my shields. Just why not, I wondered.

I stared into the flames.

_It should-_

Thinking of the Ashi'kha made me think of Niy'ashi.

I tried to avoid it.

Called the wolf closer.

The wolf remembered easier.

_I had run for several days. I had not stopped for anything but an occasional sip of water._

_I was running from something, and I did not know what it was. So I forgot about it._

_Then I found traces, scents._

_A wolf pack. Lead by a male and a female. Five wolves. I had entered their territory and they would not miss my presence._

_I hesitated and sniffed the air. Then I took a step forward, stopped again._

_I howled, announcing my presence. _

_Waited for an answer._

_Later, the pack found me. _

_They were well fed, carrying the smell of a successful hunt with them. I avoided their eyes, approached the leader with my tail down._

_Later again. I poked my head into the burrow. The female snarled, curling around her young. She looked at me, her yellow eyes glittering._

_I was no rival._

_As changewolf I occupied the last place in the pack order. _

_She moved a little, and I curled up with the young. The pack was going to hunt. She left me with the cubs, a luxury she only risked with me. Alone with cubs not my own, not my pack's. _

_The night had brought the first frost._

_And now I was troubled. _

_The pack had hunted well once more this night. We were resting on a windy hill-top that offered a wide view around. _

_The younger wolves, three cubs from the last year, were playing around the sleeping wolves for a while, then lay down to sleep as well. The smaller cubs, those I had helped raise this spring, lay by their mother. _

_I watched them through slitted eyes, moving my tail-tip over my nose in concentration._

_I could not say what it was._

_The wolf wanted to sleep, but found I could not. The wind ruffled my back fur, and I curled up tighter. I raised my head then, and looked over the hill- top._

_The pack was successful, and strong. It had grown and lost none of the members._

_So why was I - like this?_

_The uneasiness did not come from the bear that had invaded our territory this year and hunted in our range. Neither did it come from the first chill of winter that already breathed through the late summer nights._

_I watched the other wolves sleep and play, and then I knew it. I was not watching them. Or rather, I was watching them with eyes not my own. That sense of distance made me uneasy, and as I identified it, it became stronger. _

_I rose and shook my pelt, stood uncertainly. _

_Something detached itself from my awareness, then melted back into it._

_I shook my mind out like tangled fur and looked through the wolf's eyes. It had been - how long? To the wolf, there was no time. _

_Also, there was no sorrow. _

_Not such as I had left behind._

_I did not know what had shaken me out of the wolf. I had no wish to return to my other self. To the pain of loss._

_Early spring. _

_It had been early spring when the grey wolf - no; when - Niy'ashi had been killed. _

_My brother was dead._

_The realization came from somewhere far from the wolf's mind. _

_It slammed into my consciousness with a force that made the wolf shake his head as if to ward of stinging flies._

_I flattened my ears and rose, turning restlessly on the spot. The pack leader looked up, sleepy and puzzled._

_A thought formed in the wolf's mind. Slowly becoming my own. _

_I stepped up to the red- pelted pack leader, nuzzled the wolf's ruff with a conscious mixture of wolfish and elven farewell._

_I had to - go somewhere. _

_Or rather, I could not stay._

_Puzzled, the pack leader accepted the decision._

_Changewolves sometimes stayed for very long, then came only for a hunt. He did not know more. He did not ask questions._

_Quietly, without waking the other wolves, I left, black-furred._

_Later, deep in the night, I had climbed a tree. _

_Back in the circle._

_I shivered. Autumn was there, and cold reigned in the mountains. _

_I had no clothes. I had run far with the pack over the last moons. As a wolf, I had no need for clothes. No possibility to carry anything._

_I felt hollow and empty inside, and I knew what the wolf did not. _

_This had to end._

_Somehow._

_The Wood Elves did not know who I was. _

_Neither what I was. _

_They accepted my presence anyway. I knew how to kill orcs. _

_And I could not even remember, really. In the carefully planned ambush of the huge group of orcs that had lodged themselves in the forest I would be of help, maybe._

_I did not care. I had other cares and fears._

_So this is it. The thought flashed in my mind. The wolf screamed at me, rage and fear almost tearing my control over the change into shreds._

_I clung to them, not allowing myself to avoid what was coming; what I wanted to come._

_But the orc did not strike. _

_Something crashed into him, and the creature collapsed in mid-strike, spurting blood all over me. The jagged sword clutched fast in its hand, leering in death, the orc tried for a final strike._

_The blade sliced into my shoulder, barely missing my throat, and skipped over my chest and belly. The poisoned metal felt like searing fire even as it cut, then the dying orc was yanked off me._

Darkness.

I was aware of the fire, the heat of the flames, somewhere. I could not see them.

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly.

Darkness. No, outside it was dark, again. What was this?

Not the shadow paths.

I had the feeling that somewhere before me the grey wolf was running. A strange, remote feeling. Intolerable. The wolves were running, but I could see or feel no ground, hear no sound, except my own breathing.

I did not seek the shadow paths.

But I was in a cave-

I just had to catch up with him.

I felt drawn deeper into the darkness, followed the pull.

If I could reach him-

The first time, at the old tree, I had failed. But now – this was different-.

Then something caught up on me. I was pulled back, away from my brother, I thought.

The wolf snarled. I fought back, felt the presence of my brother fading.

No, it had not been there in the first place.

_Had it?_

Abruptly I recognised Gildor; the Elda was bracing himself against the sucking of the darkness, the empty void I felt was only filled with the sorrow and awareness of loss.

You were soulbound Gildor's mind-voice roared into my head And he wanted you to live

No. But I did not want to live myself.

I tried to shake the Elda's mind off, felt him clutching me back from somewhere.

I could not say if the struggle was physical or mental, but I realized I was cornered. I could not call the wolf.

I tried to withdraw my mind completely, as I would trying to leave the shadow-paths. I gathered all strength I could. It was impossible to channel it, make it into an effective weapon. I simply released it all, trying to blast myself an escape way.

Blackness followed.

Gildor's POV

I called the dark elf's name several times. When Raven did not react at all, did not even open his eyes, I moved around the fire and touched him.

And knew I had made a mistake.

I had sensed _something_ about Raven before, could tell _something _had occurred that Raven was hiding. Weak shields were one thing, because not everyone had the same ability for mind-speaking, and one who did not mind-speak in the first place did not need shields. But _no _shields were quite another thing, and Raven was, I could sense that, a very good mind-speaker. _No _shields for a mind-speaker also meant that everything touching the _hröa _would backlash as pain upon the _fea_. When I had trained for the basic healing skills I had heard about that. I knew from personal experience that it was true to _some _degree, but now I found a case of _completely_.

I was a good mind-speaker myself, with some ability for far-speaking and a little empathy. That was useful for a healer, enabled me to speak to Faire as I did. But right now, it was devastating.

Wherever Raven was at the moment, and whatever he felt, hit me with the force of a sledgehammer. The dark elf's eyes flew open and he stared at me blankly, trying to jerk free of my touch. I held on because of sheer training, lowered my own shields, and found us both – somewhere – and sucked away. I had no other word for the sensation, and no time to find one. In the battles of the First Age I had known elves who had willingly forsaken their body after receiving eventually deadly or maiming injuries, after losing partners or mates. I knew the signs. And I knew there was nothing I could do if the person _wanted_ to die.

Within the flash of a moment of touching Raven's mind I knew what had happened. Soulbound. But nothing like I had ever seen before. Unrestricted and complete. So complete, in fact, that their fёar had been almost _one, _that the death of one party inevitably meant the same for the other. For some reason – _no, the reason was obvious – _wherever he had taken the strength to do it, Raven's partner – _damn, his _brother_ - _had been killed and yet somehow managed to sever the bond and prevented Raven from dying with him. And left him with – _half a fёa. _Not that this would be possible, but that was the feeling. Of shreds blowing within a wind from the void of everlasting darkness. Raven was teetering somewhere on the edge, wanting and not wanting to let go. I didn't know the dark elves had that power. Not even Darkstone had ever mentioned it.

One chance, I thought. The healers called it _fёa-raika_, calling the fёa back to the body. A ritual more than a procedure, involving long and extensive preparations to minimize risk for both parties. And at least two other persons, better three.

Hell, I couldn't have them now, so I had better decide.

"Raven come back" _O_f course he couldn't hear me You were soulbound. He wanted you to live. You _can't _die. You _don't want to!_ I followed his presence further into – _whatever – _felt him retreating.

_One chance. _I reached out, caught his fёa with my own and found – _aquapahtiё. _The fullest and severest I had ever thought was possible. Raven's mind was strange, full of incomprehensible sensations and images, but this was the last shields he had.Basic, instinctive shields every mind possessed, even that of mortals who were completely ignorant of the _possibility _of mind-speech. But he controlled them, and all his willpower was in them. I found myself scrabbling against their solidity like a cat trying to climb a glass wall.

Any touch on _fёa _or _hröa _backlashed upon the other. Raven screamed, tried to break our contact by pulling back, writhing in my grasp and at the same time spinning our minds further into the void. I could not hold him forever, not even for a while, I realized frantically. Raven fought me with the ferocity of a cornered animal, and the double strain of keeping his fёain check and preventing him from physically pounding me into the cave floor would soon wear me out. One chance still. I could worry about right or wrong later.

I enveloped the dark elf's fёa with my own, shields and all, and pulled back, digging mental teeth and claws into the ground as I did so. Suddenly we were out of the spirit world, and lying on the stony cave floor. I felt like collapsing right then and there. We were not finished. Raven jerked his head around, staring at me with a look of pure terror on his face. Pinning his wrists with my greater weight I could feel Raven's frantic heartbeat. If the pain did not kill him he would die of fright. He had no idea I meant to help him.

I bit my lip. This was like a catapult. I could not release my hold on Raven's fёanow or we would probably both be flung – _where? _I dared not think about it.

'I can help you. Lower your shields!'

"No!"

'Raven, please. You do not _want _to die'

°NO° No what? In any case, he had no choice but to say no, I realized. All else would have been surrender, and that was unacceptable. I understood _that_ very well.

'I won't let you die'

With a strength I had not known I possessed I held Raven's fёa with me and assailed his shields, shredding them away with greater and finer honed skills. I had to get through to the hurt his brother's death had caused Raven, and only then could I seal it away for Raven to deal with when – _if ever_ – he had the strength. When he understood what had happened.To seal it away, leave it be was the only way. To try and heal it would be folly. And complete misunderstanding what it was all about.

Now. It took me a moment to gather my remaining strength and set to work on constructing seals. Just a moment of hesitation, and Raven lashed out. For a second, his fёaslipped from my control, twisting as I had never thought was possible for a fёaand I felt him centring literally _all _his power. He was going to kill us both -_ …if you can not counter a blow, deflect it, avoid it – _I twisted my own shields up, made them _malleable, _and sensed the scorching power explode around me – it passed me, vanished – I made a new grab for Raven's fёa and snatched it back from fading like a hawk binding to his prey.

Do.not.faint. I ordered myself. Just.do.not.faint. … I fervently hoped that was his last strike. I had no strength to counter anything else.

Quickly, I wove the shields _fёa-raika _detailed as _seals_ and set them in place, trying to heal what I could before finally breaking our contact.

Raven was – out cold. He would probably kill me when he woke.

Right now it seemed rather like the question what would kill _him_ first – his fёa or his hröa.

Chapter Notes:

Quote at the beginning from the song "Thru the End" by Kenziner (album "Timescape")

Fёa-raika: (Q) I do not speak Quenya and here is another proof. (Q) raita- or raika means "to catch something in a net". Fёa-raika is supposed to signify a procedure to call a fea back to the body it wishes to forsake. Ask Gildor for specifications, not me, please.

Shields: (Q) aquapahtiё means "fully-closedness" of a mind to telepathic transfers/communication. I assume it is not too farfetched to refer to whatever technique is needed to achieve aquapahtiё as "shielding". That, like mind-speech, is also borrowed from Mercedes Lackey's _Valdemar_-books. (Q) osanwё is usually translated as "telepathy", so when any character refers to "mind-speech" or "mind-magic" you should think of whatever forms of osanwё that may be possible. As for the idea that physical contact is necessary for a 'complete' mental connection, another little bow to Mr. Spock and his pointy-eared kin on Vulcan.

6


	31. Chapter 31 Eregion

**Eregion**

TA 2907

Gildor's POV

The next morning came clammy and grey. Feeling stiff, cold and raw I had been awake through the rest of the night, half waiting half hoping for Raven to wake. Or rather, to come back to himself. For a while I had thought he would die anyway, wards or no wards set to keep the pain in check. I did not know how far the dark elves used mind-speech in particular, but judging by the level of Raven's mental defence they were quite apt in mind-magic in general. Though compared to what I had learned they seemed to be doing some things with a mace that could be done with a needle.

I had used the night to sort out what I had seen. Which was not much.

Fingal – Raven's brother - had died more than a year ago. Raven had lived in that – let's call it_ state_ – several moons. How the hell did he do it? From the effect his brother's death had had on Raven I guessed their soulbond must have existed from birth, maybe. But then, Fingal had been several years the elder. A controlled soulbond generally allowed the survival of the remaining partner. Nevertheless the death of one partner was always a risk, and often the shock of losing the other half was deadly, even in a controlled bond. So much for the theory, once more.

Raven had curled into a tight ball and kept his shields, or what was left of them at the moment, firmly raised. I could not tell anything about his true constitution at the moment. Not without touching him. Perforce we shared some sort of connection now, but I did not know him well enough to sense anything _telling_ through that thin bond yet.

What would happen when he woke, I wondered once more. If he had the strength to fight, would he attack me? With a temper like a spring bear he would not provide an even moderately peaceful cave mate. I had done what I had been – _still was - _convinced was the right thing. Had it been my _right _to make that decision for Raven? Or did I allow myself to be too much influenced by old memories than to see everyone had a right to decide on their life? Or death, for that matter?

Yet - if Raven wished to refuse to live still, he could make that decision once more, willingly. Because he had had no power over the fading, last night. No one could say for sure what the fading actually was. Would be.To waste of grief was one thing, to willingly pass to Mandos another. Both were accounted for by the Valar.

_Slain you will be…_ _Damn it. _Did dark elves fade? Or was it a fate reserved only for those who had once rebelled, if they would not return into the west? Maybe I did not really want to know.

I rubbed my eyes. I could not think as clearly as I wished. I had a hellish headache from our struggle, and Raven would feel it thrice since he had gotten the backlash of his own killing strike. Oh yes, he nearly killed me, I had to admit it. I had only in the last moment remembered Glorfindel's advice _avoid what you can't counter _and let the energy pass around myself into nothingness.

I stuck my head out of the entrance-hole. It was so narrow even the lean dark elf had had difficulty squeezing through. The entrance to the tiny cave lay deeper than all the surrounding blocks and I could not see much through the thick mist that now lay damp and heavy on the mountain slope. The one good thing about our hiding had been its size - the close space had prevented Raven from getting a great advantage in our struggle last night. I would be glad to leave this place. My leather armour was soaking wet from our crossing the mountain river in the valley, but I did not dare to take it off. Orcs were around up the mountain, and though they had not come closer in the night, I dimly felt their presence. Somewhere before us, not behind. They had not followed us, at least. I could not say exactly where they were, my skills were not enough for that, but the land spoke clearly enough. And here we were, stuck up like rabbits in their den.

Presently, these rabbits were enveloped in deep silence though their hiding was not that far from the tree-line.

I sighed and retreated into the meagre shelter of our hole. Right now I doubted Raven would ever forgive me, no matter I had saved his life. I shook my head in frustration and sank back against the cold wall. It was a long way still to reach a safer place for the next rest, and if we could somehow manage I wanted to try and reach a small cottage my company sometimes used as a stop-over. It was not a safe haven, but it was considerably safer than spending another night in some _cave_.

A pity Fairё had gone back to Imladris. Well, I knew she could not have followed us across the landslide anyway, and probably the way down aside from the pass would not get better at all. Should I wake Raven? Would we be able to march for any great distance? What if we could not move for some days? It was complete madness to even consider spending a night in this area out of cover, at least in our condition. The thought of a hot bath came unbidden and enticing to my mind. I was hungry, and our food would run out today.

The cottage turned into a paradise far beyond any amenities even Imladris could offer. Coming to think of that, though, I doubted Raven would be happy to have to stay in a house. No more than I was happy with a cave like this one. From what I had gathered Raven had never been in any kind of building more solid than a winter flet. I tried to stretch and my knuckles scraped against the wet rock above. How could any elf bear even to think of spending a whole winter in this badger's hole, I wondered in exasperation.

_Food_. I rummaged through my pack, and found only dried fruit and old bread. The last of the smoked meat we had eaten yesterday. We _had_ to reach the cottage.

If only for the sake of comfort.

I knew that was a bad argument, but then, what had gone right anyway?

Somewhere close, a bird of prey screeched. Raven did not react, which I guessed was not a good sign. In the past few days I had spent in his company he had never been less than jumpy and completely aware of his surroundings.

If we walked very hard we could reach the plain before nightfall. Determinedly I leaned forward and spoke Raven's name. When no reaction came I shook Raven's bare shoulder, ready to block any reflexive defence. Fever, I thought grimly. It hadn't gone down a bit. As a healer, I could tell the dark elf's normal body temperature was higher than my own, but this was definitely too high. Raven flinched and immediately twisted around into a crouching position, tensed and ready to attack. Panting, taking a moment to fix his eyes on me, he glared at me.

"What?" he demanded, squeezing the hiss out between clenched teeth.

I had made the deep cut on his chest heal as best as I could, but it was poisoned and had not stopped leaking blood, I saw. Raven's sudden movement now had not made the wound better. At least he hadn't gone berserk yet.

"We should go now" I said "Dawn was an hour ago. And we won't be fast"

"Go?" For a moment Raven looked puzzled "Go where?"

"Eregion. We agreed to go to Eregion" I said, trying to sound as if it was the most obvious thing.

Raven's POV

I came out of utter darkness without waking up. I knew nothing, heard nothing, felt nothing. There was only darkness, and awareness of darkness. There was nothing else, not even the wolf. Then there was only sharp, fiery pain, lancing through that silky darkness and snatching it away from me like a blanket, leaving me naked and defenceless, without the wolf.

I did what the wolf would have done, twisting up, crouching, trying to face whatever had snatched my cover. I had no fur, no fangs, no senses. Unfurred, I had only eyes, and was no good to defend myself. There was light, and it blinded me. My head spun, and all my body hurt. Had I been able to, I would have twisted away from it then and there.

Light. Touch. Unfurred. Somewhere, I felt the wolf then, alive, in charge. He looked up, looked at where I was, who was with me. He wanted to know, but it was I who had to speak. It was a struggle to find the concept, the language, the word. To speak as the wolf did not.

"What?"

I hissed, unable to move my lips correctly, unable to put together anything I saw. Only the name, I remembered his name, his scent. The wolf did. Enemy, I thought. Friend, the wolf said. I crouched between the wall, the fire, and Gildor. The wolf took charge of something he did not understand. He remembered the words.

"To Eregion. We agreed to go to Eregion"

Oh yes, we had, I remembered, too, finally, slowly. And I was still bound to agree. By pack rules, I was following Gildor now. I had led the way to our present hiding, but the Elda had defeated me. I shook my head, but it didn't clear the fog, only made it worse. I might have a choice, I thought dimly. But how? I thought past the wolf, and that would not work. Pack rules were the one thing I saw clearly at the moment. I looked down from my stare, acknowledging the unspoken order in accord with the wolf, though I guessed Gildor could not make much of wolf gestures transferred to Elven anatomy. Slowly, awareness of being unfurred became less terrible. I reached for the coat on which I had lain and wrapped it around myself. The cave strangled me. I forced my body to move and crawled towards the entrance. Gildor reached out and held me back "Wait, we-"

I knew that wasn't ill intention as soon as he touched me, but I still barely managed not to swat his hand away. I ground my teeth against the very physical pain the light touch caused, unable to keep myself from snarling before Gildor had a chance to speak. I forced myself to elaborate the wolf's statement.

"I want a wash, _now_, and I'm not waiting until Eregion" I stretched every word into a challenge without meaning to, knowing I had no strength to challenge. Something far from the wolf threatened to snap like a line. Maybe it was anger, but I did not know. I only knew that one more touch would drive me mad. When the leader did not respond to the challenge I shook off Gildor's hand and squeezed through the hole. I had some difficulty finding my balance for a moment. Every single muscle in my body seemed on fire. The wounds from the orc blades were burning painfully. I struggled up the slippery stones to where the small stream of water bubbled from the earth and dripped down the edge of a boulder.

It took me a long time until I felt at least a little cleaner. I pressed my hands against my forehead for a moment, cursing the fever. I felt terrible, and I didn't even have to look inside to know it. I knelt and held my head under the sprinkling water until my hair was soaked, then threw my head back and wrung the long strands out. The deliberately vicious motion made my head spin. And my hair was still full of dried blood.

It did not improve my mood.

When I came down to the cave again Gildor had already pushed our possessions out on the rocks and was waiting for me. Silently I pulled my tattered shirt over my head and fastened my sword-belt around it. It rubbed over the raw flesh, and I tried unsuccessfully to ignore it. I slung my empty pack over my shoulder and stood up stiffly and hid the fact I was shaking with cold and exhaustion by adjusting the pack-straps.

We left quickly, climbing straight downwards. The boulder-field was wide and treacherous, with holes and gaps to stick a foot into everywhere. I bit my lip and kept my mind blank, climbing and slithering behind Gildor. It was incredibly hard to walk on two legs, climb on two legs. Half the time I had to catch my weight on my hands, leaping from one boulder to the next. At all cost I wanted to avoid any reason why Gildor might touch me again – I would not be able to shield against him at all, not after last night. I had been forced to share so much of my mind that I did not wish to look into Gildor's eyes ever again.

And I knew I could never avoid it.

_So why worry_, the wolf wondered, flicking his ears in puzzlement.

_What has happened has happened, move on. _

Wolves were opportunist, and that was where I got into conflict with the wolf again. What had Gildor seen, I worried. I could not say, could not know. Had he found the wolf as well, did he know what I was?

Oddly enough, the wolf was calm. Deep inside I knew I should – could - trust the Elda. But I could not do it just now.

It was early afternoon when we rested for a while. We had left the landslide and reached thin pine-forest. I scanned the surrounding land as best as I could, not trusting Gildor's senses. The watching sapped energy, even though I did not build anything close to a tight net of awareness. I gave it up when I sensed no orcs near and almost fell asleep as we sat.

_To think of the pack was enticing._

_Return._

_Forget the trouble. I need not face this, need not stumble around on two shaky legs._

_Again, I saw the leading female's yellow eyes, narrowing as she smelled prey, her muzzle raised into the wind._

_I had been allowed to hunt with her alone. Between the two of us, we had decided several hunts for the pack._

_The wolves tended to forget the fact I was a changer in daily business, and yet I was awarded special freedom only a changewolf could expect within a pack._

Below, there was an emptiness in the land as I perceived it that seemed to echo my own feeling of hollowness. I was a creature of the mountains, I realized, and down there was no cover, no sound of trees. Far away there was a dark shadow on the plain, stretching north. That was the forest Gildor wanted to reach, and it called to me over the distance, a barely susceptible whispering that infiltrated any thought I tried to grasp firmly.

The wind did not have the strength here that it had in the mountains.

I felt stifled.

Gildor's POV

I stretched and rose, hoisting my pack and sword on my back again. The motion startled Raven out of his reverie.

We went on. The day did not clear up, and in the dusk a thin rain began to fall once more. I was exhausted as I could not remember having been before, and we had only just reached the beginning of the Eregion plain.

We halted under a few dead trees, and stared across the dim expanse of the plain rolling away before us. Vast and grey in the dusk the meadow-lands vanished in an undefined line between earth and sky. Raven stood shaking with fatigue and clutched his side where the orc blade had sliced a hand's breadth of skin away. He stared over the wide plain and he did not appear to like it.

"I'd give gold to have some merchant come across us and give us a ride on the shakiest wagon that ever travelled any road" I muttered.

"I would give gold to turn my back on this and get a highland forest back, would I remotely value gold" Raven whispered after a while.

Startled, I looked at him. He returned my glance briefly, with the ghost of a smile.

It was the first thing he had said all day. Still I was worried, more than in the morning. All the way down the mountain the Raven had climbed with iron determination, but as he stood beside me now I could feel the heat his body radiated. There was too much poison left in the wounds, though I had already washed them out last night, and Raven had done it again in the morning.

The climb had taken longer, much longer, than I had expected. Now we were in a worse situation than this morning - night fell around us. If we went on and were attacked I knew I alone was no life insurance for us. Orcs ranged in groups, seldom alone, and what could I do against a load of them with not only myself to defend? If we stayed, the risk to be found heightened considerably, and we were both wounded and exhausted. The wind had almost died, and the steady drizzle had become freezing cold. With the fever gnawing at him, Raven was shivering visibly.

"We should stop, maybe. And go on in the night. The foothills here give at least a little cover"

For a brief moment Raven looked tempted. But then, far away, wolves howled.

It was my turn to shiver. The sound was as bad in my ears as orc-cries. I looked at Raven, who stood with his eyes closed. Listening. After a moment, he looked away over the dark plain.

"And just as much to anyone stalking us" Raven took a step forward, glanced at me, and walked on when I followed him. He was right, of course. So we trudged on through the cold, wet dusk.

"Something is wrong" I could put it no clearer.

"Yes" Raven did not look at me "Th…There are orcs. Up there. Where we came from. The wolves…say so" He paused "Your people - will they know they may be coming? orcs?"

I shrugged, then shook my head "The cottage is rather close to Imladris. Generally, it is left alone. But there are no guards here. This land…is empty. Has been, for a long time"

Raven said nothing. We walked on, side by side now. It was deep night when Raven suddenly stumbled. I caught him before he fell and knelt beside him on the ground, letting him go as he gasped in pain. I swore silently. Any kind of healing I could do would only work through physical contact. If I wanted to supply Raven's shields or shield him myself I would need to touch his mind. And that would hurt him just as much. Through our bond I could remotely feel now what was going on with Raven, and I was at a loss.

Raven's POV

The vastness and emptiness of the unfamiliar plain had a strange effect on me. I felt my mind waver, and tried to clutch on some steadiness. Unease grew in me, as the wolf sensed storms and earthquakes. Partly this was a normal reaction of wariness when I came into lands unknown to me, but now this seemed to grow on me and blunt all my other senses.

I shook my head trying to clear the fog away, grappling with myself. I should stop, attune myself to the feel and nature of this land and then I would not be bothered by this continuing alarm call.

The only thing was, my head hurt like hell.

When my shields got shattered the backlash had scorched through my mind like fire. I would not be able to use my powers fully for a while, nor to let any kind of power flow through the channels. I stopped as the ground seemed to swing beneath me. There were no trees to lean against.

I found myself crouching on the ground, and realized I had fallen. At least my sensation of the land grew clearer and more relaxed. The mist thinned a little. I placed my hands on the coarse, wet grass, the hard earth beneath; but still - yes, something was wrong. I could not tell if it had something to do with myself or the land I did not understand. Suddenly Gildor beside me was tensed, looking into the dark.

"Can you move? N_ow?_ " he whispered urgently. Then "Damn, they're here"

There was a faint ring as Gildor drew his sword. For a moment, I was paralyzed, trying to separate my perception of the plains from the rest, then suddenly the wolf screamed in my mind, the change almost getting the better of me. Everything seemed to clear as I realized it was not the strangeness of the land that disturbed me so much, it was a _disturbance _of the _land_. I struggled to my feet and jerked my sword out of its sheath.

Out of the darkness orcs came rushing towards us, giving up their creeping advance. I staggered around, reflexively turning my back to Gildor's. I heard his blade connect with that of his attackers, then the other two orcs were around me. Sensing my weakness they attacked me together, sure of the kill, a grin on their faces. For a second I saw the huge orc towering above me again as I lay on my back, dumbstruck, the crooked blade coming down to cut my throat. Then the memory faded, the wolf and instinct took over. I ducked and launched myself toward the orc nearest to me. The impact threw us both to the ground and almost stunned me. The orc snarled "Nasty critter. You're dead"

Strong brown hands closed on my sword-arm and pinned me to the ground. _The second orc! _the wolf screamed. Panic seized me, but the wolf turned my terror into fury, funnelling the hate I felt for myself and the circumstances into power. _One at a time. _I smelled the orc, saw his face twist into a satisfied snarl as his chosen prey fought back.

"You. Err." I bit off the words, seeing with satisfaction the baffled surprise on the orc's face as I answered in his own tongue. With the one thought to kill I slammed my free fist into the orc's face and twisted out of his momentarily loosening grasp. I smashed my sword across the orc's belly, breaking more than slicing through the battered armour. I caught a slash across my back in return but staggered forward to drive the blade deeper.

_Where's the second one? _I wondered as I jerked the sword up.

"Raven!" Gildor shouted a warning even as I sensed the other orc behind me and the wolf's sense of survival made me roll to the side and point the blade up toward the shadow. At the same time Gildor had hit the orc's back and the creature stumbled and impaled itself on my blade. I pushed myself away from the dying orc and pulled my sword back. Gildor swung his own blade in a narrow arc severing the orc's head. He bent down and retrieved his throwing knife from the orc's side, wiping the blade on the grass.

"Thank you" I said, subdued. That was probably the only thing why the orc had hesitated the moment I had needed to turn my blade around.

"Never mind" Gildor pushed the knife back into his belt. Then we stood in the sudden silence of the plains and stared into the night, panting.

"At least you obviously decided to fight the orcs again"Gildor said

The rain continued to fall. After a moment I staggered a few steps away and dropped to the ground. This had been so close.

Only four.

There was an eerie calm after the fight. After what seemed like an hour Gildor spoke my name. We were just breaking a warrior's first rule. Never rest at a battle field.

"Hm" I sat up again, and tried to clean the blood from my sword with a handful of grass before I sheathed it. My hands were shaking so much I could barely rip out the tough plains grass. "I'm no use here, Gildor" I said finally "I cannot sense what is near"

"Neither can I, so let us hurry" Gildor answered after a moment. "They are gone for the moment" I got up, and he cast a last look at the dead orcs "Good work, still"

I had no strength to smile. Recklessly, I let go of my shields and sought for a deep connection to the land, the infinite energy of earth itself. It was there, the power, but I could not ask for it. It was as if I had forgotten how to ask. The plains did not feel, did not respond, like the forest, the mountains. Still, I stood and somehow I managed to walk on.

Gildor's POV

We walked away from the place where we had killed the orcs. We almost fled. Raven managed the brisk walk for half a candlemark, then we had to climb down a smooth but steep drop in the ground, and his legs just gave way. Snarling in frustration he slipped down to the bottom and could not get up again. I came after him, slithering on the wet grass.

The forest was about five miles distance, not more. It was not yet midnight. Again, I scanned the land northwards carefully. Silence. I looked at Raven who shook his head mutely.

We were not going to make it there. Faire. Damn it. Well, she couldn't fly here from the valley. Determinedly I took Raven's pack and slung it over my own shoulder, then bent forward to pick him up. "No" Raven closed his hand around my arm with surprising strength "No. Please, just – let me lean on you"

I sighed silently. Surrender was unacceptable. Very well. I forgot my own rules.

I nodded and pulled Raven to his feet, slung his arm across my shoulder. I still carried most of his weight. We set ourselves to the last few miles with grim determination. Raven simply shut his eyes and relied on my guidance. I felt him relax minutely as we struggled on under the trees. After the rough grass of the plain the dead leaves underfoot were soft and soothing. When I finally saw the dark bulk of the cottage before us I could have shouted.

Empty. Well, they would be in Imladris by nowWith a brief mental touch I dispersed the wards they had set around the wooden building when they had left. I pushed the door open and led Raven to the fur covered bed in the main room.

Blessed Orome.

Raven's POV

For a moment I was at a loss where we were. I lay on my back and felt vulnerable. With an effort, I curled up on my side. I felt dry and hot inside, but I was shivering and my skin felt clammy. Tangled hair fell annoyingly before my face, and I pushed it back with a movement that seemed to require all my strength. Disgusted, I felt the dried plates of blood and dirt. I wished for nothing but a bath, I couldn't just decide if I would prefer a cold mountain stream or a hot spring. Everything was out of control for the moment. It was the most terrible sensation to find even my own body out of my mastery. Being a captive in the orc camp had not frightened me so much, not even the idea what the orcs might do or were planning to do. I had been in control even then, if only remotely.

Gildor was moving around somewhere close. There was a smell of wood and dust, furs and bees wax. The Elda struck a flame and lit a candle, carried it to me and put it on the low wooden table beside the bed. I blinked in the light which seemed bright and blinding for a moment. The wolf eyed the flame sceptically through my eyes.

_Cottage_, some part of my mind supplied.

_This is the cottage he spoke of. _

I closed my eyes and tried to decide if I could afford the luxury of complete unwariness and let exhaustion take over. I could not focus properly on Gildor's face before me. He said something to me.

"Huh?"

"Go to sleep. We're safe here. Just - sleep"

_Just sleep. _With sleep might come memory.

I did not wish to remember.

But I wanted to rest. So I turned my back to the candle and tried to relax without actually losing myself to sleep. I had been pretty good at that for the past weeks.

9


	32. Chapter 32 The Cottage

**The Cottage**

TA 2907, near Hollin Ridge

Gildor's POV

I rose and looked around the dark room. It seemed all a little dusty here, but otherwise the wards had held perfectly tight. Nothing I couldn't fix in a day. I went to the great fireplace and looked into the cupboard where we usually kept some storage. Whoever left the cottage last took care that at least basic supplies were stocked. There were apples, _shrunken of course_, flour and salt. At least we would have fresh bread in the morning.

I remembered Glinael's mention of trying to trade with a few wood-men and pushed the door of a shaky and narrow cupboard open. There one still hung untouched, a dried ham of the sort Glinael had kept raving about. I had to smile. _Perfect_. I would owe him a ham, but if my only concern were food for tomorrow I would count myself lucky.-

I had no idea what to do with Raven. I was a healer, but I could only heal if the person in question was willing to be healed. Raven wasn't. I went through the bundles of dried herbs that always hung from the low ceiling. Most were spices and not especially healing herbs, but I could not go into the forest now to gather fresh ones. I shivered, and quickly shook off my own wet cloak, casting it over a chair.

I sorted through more herbs. There, I could use those, at least against the fever. That is, if the dark elf's physiology responded like that of my own kind-.

I hesitated. Now that was a thought. Well, there could be nothing wrong with these herbs. Even Men could use them.

So.

I lit another candle and built up a fire, then emptied our water bags into a small kettle and hung it over the flames to boil. With a woollen blanket I went over to Raven. He had already cast off his soaked cape, but the rain had drenched the garments beneath through as well. Either Raven did not realize it or ignored it. When he did not react to my speaking his name I touched his shoulder and Raven immediately came out of whatever he was in at the moment.

His wide eyes caught the light of the candle and reflected it as a cat's did. I felt the hairs on my neck rise. _Or as a wolf's_ I thought, remembering the strange images I had caught from Raven's mind. All Elves had night sight, but as far as I knew we did _not_ have cat eyes, reflecting eyes. Maybe Raven's people had developed it in assimilating to the long dark in the Age of Stars. – Anyway.

"You have to get out of those wet things" I said in answer to Raven's questioning look.

"Oh" Raven looked genuinely surprised and fingered his own clammy shirt. There were no laces and he had to raise his arms so I could pull it over his head. He winced as the motion made the raw edges of his wound scrape together. I pushed all thoughts of modesty into the back of my mind and pried Raven out of the soaked and clinging leather breeches as well before wrapping him in the blanket.

When I returned to the fire the water was steaming. I poured some into a cup and crunched a mixture of herbs into it, then took a second cup and poured the remaining water over a few leaves of mint. Tea was just the right thing now. After a while I fished the herbs out and brought the cup to Raven who had a little difficulty balancing it. I sat down on the chair beside the couch to sip my own tea. It had never felt so good just to sit down.

Raven had wrapped the blanket tightly around himself and pushed into a half sitting position again. He accepted the steaming cup without contradiction but sniffed suspiciously.

"Herbs" I answered the suspicious glance "And only herbs. Maybe they will do something against the fever"

"Am I taking up your bed?" Raven asked after a while of sitting in silence.

"No" I shook my head and gestured to the back of the cottage. "There's another room where I usually sleep. There's also a bathtub so you can have a wash with hot water tomorrow"

Raven looked puzzled. "Bath-tub?" he asked, stumbling over the word.

"Something like a huge barrel. You fill it with water and get in. – Don't you _know_ what a bathtub is?"

Raven shrugged. "No. How? I told you I've never been into a…a house. Cottage. Whatever you call it"

The dark elves were a woodland people and mostly wandering folk, but almost all of them had contact to humans or other elven people who _had_ discovered the comforts of settling somewhere.

If he didn't know what that was, where did he spend his life! A question that made me all the more curious of the story behind Raven. Anyway, that had to wait.

I had to fetch some water for the night, and then I wished for nothing but sleep. It was only a short walk to the cistern, but in the dark drizzle it felt like having to trek for miles. With two buckets I returned to the cottage and put them beside the fireplace. I went to look after Raven once more. After making sure he needed nothing else for the night, I went out again and set new wards. Then I fell into my bed.

Raven's POV

I spent the night half asleep, keeping a firm reign on anything that might turn into a completed thought, or worse, a dream. There was nothing, absolutely nothing, I wanted to remember about the last week. The last moons, to be correct.

_Niy'ashi was gone. _That was the only reality I knew when I was not wolf. And when I had given up running with the pack and decided to join the Silvan Elves' carefully planned assault on the orcs, I had done so with the idea of it being the last.

End it quickly. Or better, since to my own shame I had been unable to end it myself, have an orc end it. Just a moment's unwariness and that's that. If I wanted to, I need not fight the pain, need not try to heal. And I had wanted it so much. Until that one moment when I thought it was the end, when I saw the large orc towering above me and raising a jagged sword almost in slow motion. Then this mad Elda had charged in between like a white lightning and here I was, still alive, bruised and wounded, and still with the notion that my brother was gone forever.

And in this case, forever was a very long word.

_I might have made a mistake._

_Maybe with Onakir things would have turned out different –. I'm a raven, after all. What do I know of hawks?_

_Maybe these Elves here – maybe Gildor knew something else -_

_Apart from Mandos - I'm not sure I want the Valar noticing me at all-_

_I _am _sure I don't want _my _fёar in such a Vala's hands -_

It was bad enough that circumstances tended to dictate my actions, worse to think that some gods might desire to as well.

I had not been aware the darkness Niy'ashi's death had left was dragging me after my brother, I could admit that now. Maybe it had not even been my own wish to die.

Gildor had been keener, and he had pulled me back, had set wards on the black void inside. It was still there, though, and I felt constrained to touch in that direction as if probing for a lost tooth. I did not like being rescued. I hated that feeling, hated myself for having to endure it. - If I could just end it. But no.

I could not, I dared not, and deep inside, I did not even know if I wanted to. I could not even say if this misfired attempt had turned my desire for an end into a fear of it. The wards as Gildor called them at least prevented dreams from coming, kept the memories from returning, for the time being. Dimly I remembered what he had said, that after a while I myself would be able to relax or even remove them. It would be so when I was able to deal with the pain.

_Ha._

For now they were simply there, and though I was grateful for their presence, they represented a blow to my pride, not to mention my privacy. To pull me back against the drift into nothingness, and against my own will, Gildor had been forced to shatter all the shields I had been able to come up with. The wards had to be locked on the pain of loss and anchored so deeply that I wondered if there was any part of my mind the Elda might not have perceived. _Where did the wolf come into it?_ That was my main concern now. All else was impossible to change anymore. Had Gildor found the wolf, found where I came from? _And if, what would he do? _He had mentioned nothing as yet.

After two days in which we had barely talked Gildor had risked more than physical death in following my mind and pulling it back against the sucking void. A dark elven mind at that, too. _Just why?_

A soulbond as intense and unreserved as I had shared with Niy'ashi would never have been allowed to happen unconsciously among the Eldar. Gildor had saved me alright, but he could not provide something – someone- to fill the void. Could he? Did I want him to?I squirmed inwardly. I was completely alone. In every way. So why was I still alive? Where was the reason for such a kind of existence?

The wolf was no help. He had lost the same soulbond.

Hadn't he?

Paralyzed by the sudden realization that the wolf had kept the darkness at bay before Gildor, I acknowledged that the wolf alone would have been able to cope.

_Unlike me. _

_But I am the wolf._

_The wolf is me._

_If I die, so does the wolf._

_Wouldn't he? –_

That made no sense. But I had lived as wolf for moons after Niy'ashi's death. If everything failed, I could choose the wolf, completely.

After this night of mindless half- doze I had some problems becoming aware of myself again. Instinctively I reached for the wolf and the sharp sensations of foreign-ness all around that it brought. Without waking completely I smelled the fur of the bed I was lying on, the wooden floor, and furniture I could give no name to. Beeswax and several other, unidentifiable odours. The smell of my own dusty and sweaty body, the dried blood that still seemed to cling everywhere.

_A black wolf made the world. The black wolf holds power. His fur is the colour of the shadow that was before the world and the brightnesses were made. So the legend said._

_A black wolf made the world. But I am not – a wolf. But – _

_You cannot die. No, something else. _

_You _must _not die._

I wanted to wash. In my mind I saw the cold mountain lake not far from our last summer cave, the endless pinewoods surrounding it. I woke abruptly and completely, sucking in my breath as sharp pain ran through my body and in my head. For a moment I stared at the low ceiling, feeling desperate. I did not want to be here!

The wolf was there.

I let the animal awareness take over. I concentrated on my body. I could move, and could move everything, though it hurt. Never mind. I could not, however, seem to pull my mind together and push the fog on my perceptions away. The wolf had clearer objections. There was no smell of mountain forest. Outside was unfamiliar lowland forest, leaf-bearing trees, and beyond that, the vast expanse of the foreign plains. All was muffled by the wooden walls. That troubled the wolf, and by defining the opposite I got a little more power of unfurred's perceptions. Wooden walls need not necessarily trouble _me_. The things around here, the furniture, were strange, but not utterly foreign. Some of it I had seen in trading, some things I knew from the traders' talk.

So.

The wolf said, the next thing to consider was food. That made me acutely aware of my physical state. I could not hunt, not for several days, maybe weeks. Another problem came with that. My control over my shields was ragged and tenuous, and I would not be able to weave a useful mak'a'ara until the effects of the mental struggle faded.

Somewhere, I heard noises.

Outside?

No.

I pushed myself up on my elbows and tried to locate the sounds.

Water.

With grim determination I pushed myself into a sitting position and crossed my legs. I ground my teeth to keep from making a sound. No more weakness. I had shown enough to last me for a lifetime. I waited, but the throbbing pain did not stop.

Very well.

I dragged my old tunic over my head and swung my legs over the edge of the low bed to steady myself against the outthrust log at the wall.

Gildor's POV

I left the half-open niche we stubbornly called bathroom and a wave of cold air followed me inside. It was a shed more than anything, but I did not care much. We had a bath-tub. Drying my hair I felt very much better in clean garments, and was ready for breakfast. I had already fetched more water for a bath I guessed Raven would be yearning to take and had stoked up the fire to heat it. I would have to bake fresh bread this morning, and I was going over our provisions once more in my mind. If we were going to spend the winter here, I would have to go to Imladris for supplies before snow fell. When I rounded the corner I almost bumped into Raven. Concentrated on his effort to rise he flinched so hard he almost lost his hold on the log.

"No" he hissed, cutting off any probable attempt for help as he fumbled for a hold on the wood frame. I made no move towards him and instead leaned against one of the supporting logs in the opposite wall "You look like hell"

Just to say something.

Raven relaxed a little, shifting his position to keep upright.

"Hell must be feeling better than I do right now"

Raven seemed to sort himself out "You have water?" he asked almost pleadingly, glancing at my wet hair.

"I have a whole bath to offer you"

After a moments hesitation I decided on a trial to see how far I could go anyway. "Come on" I held out my arm for Raven to lean on. The dark elf studied it for a moment as if he had never seen a limb before. He was aware that I was testing him, but for what he could not say. Raven took a quick look in the direction from which I had come, estimating the distance to the door that led to the bathroom.

Raven's POV

The wolf did not think about pride or trust. I fought a brief, vicious battle with him, pride, instincts, and his desire for the easiest way. Losing it, I carefully leaned on the offered arm, and two steps later thanked fate for having made the decision. The few steps across the room seemed to drag into a huge distance, and I needed all strength I had to put one foot before the other without showing that.

The bathroom, I found, had three closed sides and one with planks set a hands breadth apart. I could see the outside through the gaps. The floor had scrubbed planks set in a similar manner, so I had to watch my feet. The floor level was higher than the natural ground. Cold air seeped in through the openings.

"You just tip the thing over or pull the plug" Gildor explained, pointing at the steaming, barrel- like tub on the side. It was made of some kind of metal, and a small fire was burning in a secured place below. Copper, my memory supplied after a moment of staring at the metal.

Should be I, thought glumly. Or you burn your house while soaking your arse. The traders' expression came unbidden into my mind, and made me feel slightly hysterical. Or burn your arse while immersed in water.

I should have stayed wolf. I should have let the doubts pass, and simply stayed furred forever.

But then, my mind whispered darkly. What would you have had? Wolves were short-lived, even more than humans. They all would have died, and the pack would be changing so fast, where could I stay there a lifetime?

Where my people have stayed since the beginning of their days, I answered my own question. As a wolf, I would probably be able to accept the death and life cycle of my pack mates quite differently than I would thinking like an Elf.

"It's cold but if you keep the walls all closed the wood gets dingy, and besides, this way you can easily dispose of the water". Gildor's voice jolted me back to the present. He placed a folded garment on a small stool I noticed only now and added "Well, I'll leave you alone. If there's anything, just shout"

I nodded. I shrugged off the smelly tunic and slipped into the hot water.

For a panicky moment I thought I was going to faint. The open wounds stung in the water so much it drove tears to my eyes. After a long moment the pain faded, or at least receded to a level I no longer felt. I soaked for a long while, and only moved when the small fire died and the water started to get cold. It was quite a challenge to get myself cleaned, and when I had finally got out of the water the cold air almost chilled me to the bone. I rubbed myself dry and wrapped a clean tunic from Gildor around me, leaning against the tub for a moment and closing my eyes. The tunic was too wide for me, and I rolled the sleeves up a little. Then I turned to the copper tub and tried to tip it over as Gildor had said. The full tub seemed like a rock rooted to the ground.

I gave up with a grunt. My head was spinning again. It drove me mad. I used a string of extremely colourful curses and got out of breath, a fact I cursed just as heartily though this time silently. I fumbled in the water for the plug and pulled it. The water slowly disappeared through the hole in the bottom with a sucking sound, spattering to the ground below the planks.

When I closed the wooden door behind me the warmth of the heated cottage enveloped me like a blanket. I fixed my eyes on the opening leading to the main room and moved towards it. I reached the doorframe and caught my weight against it, then carefully lowered myself onto the couch. My heart was racing. So far so good. At least I had not been forced to hobble along like an invalid again. I curled up on the soft furs and closed my eyes for a moment.

Gildor woke me a few hours later from a nap I had never meant to allow by speaking my name. From the sound of it the Elda had called me repeatedly already.

"Un'tannr toka -" I mumbled dazedly, images from some half-dreamed scenes dispersing before I could grasp them. Then I realized I had spoken in my own tongue, and woke fully. It would not do to flaunt that language about; maybe I had already betrayed myself through the wolf.

Gildor raised one eyebrow but let the matter be for the moment.

"You should eat something. Will you come into the kitchen?"

I nodded absently and got to my feet slowly. Whatever a kitchen was. I simply followed the smell of food. I was absurdly grateful he had asked me to get it and not brought it to me.

After the meal of bread, smoked ham and fruit we sat in front of the fire in the main room. I drew my knees up and sipped a mug of tea, staring into the flames. I blinked, trying to keep my eyes open. I was so tired I didn't even feel the wolf's discomfort in the face of the roaring blaze, only the comfortable heat. Feeling alternately hot and freezing I was occupied with myself. Gildor had a huge book on his lap, but he wasn't reading so much as simply turning the pages. Normally I would have been fascinated by the book, but I could not find any spare energy for it right now.

I jerked my head up when Gildor suddenly said "Go to _sleep, _Raven"

I didn't even have the strength to feel angry. I let Gildor help me over and on to the couch, just wanting to sleep. I was aware of Gildor talking to me, asking something. No idea.I wanted to curl up and felt vaguely alarmed when Gildor kept me from rolling over.

"Athelas"

He held something under my nose, and I flinched, sneezing at the scent. It took a moment until the fact registered with me. _Salve. It's salve. _

I tensed as he rubbed the strong smelling salve into the deepest wounds but was much too exhausted for a more manifest objection.

Chapter Notes:

Cottage: I assume the Wandering Companies might keep up places to stop over for a few nights similar to the Rangers' caches of fire-wood in the dell near Weathertop.

"_Un'tannr toka_": Ashi'kha "Leave me alone"

7


	33. Chapter 33 Never cry wolf

**Never cry, wolf**

TA 2907

Gildor's POV

A few days later I _had_ to worry about our supplies in earnest. I could hunt, yes, but only meat and bread hardly made for what I considered a satisfying meal. There weren't rhevain near either who could have helped me out. I had checked for signs already. To reach Imladris on foot would take several long days, and the way back even longer. And to take Raven with me to the valley was out of the question yet. He did not want to go, he was terrified of the idea alone. And had we gone, chances were that somebody was bound to find things strange about him.

I was not good at scrying if I had no specific focus to scry for, and I did not wish to contact Elrond if I could help it. So I could either walk, in which case I would have to leave Raven here, or I could waste a considerable amount of energy on scrying for a non-particular contact.

At least the weather had cleared up, I thought wryly. Raven had a curious sleeping rhythm that had him awake until dawn and then sleeping until afternoon. At the moment, he had curled up on a blanket _outside _the cottagesleeping in a patch of sunlight.

So I went into the sunny forest that morning and circled around for a while, checking for signs of danger near before settling at the foot of a beech and turning my mind to an earnest attempt at scrying. At this time of the year several wanderers drifted into the general direction of Imladris for cover and protection. After a while of tentative lookout someone became aware of my scrying and completed the connection. The feel of that someone was not utterly strange.

'Feather? Now that is what I call luck'

'Aye, Caltor. What is wrong?'

'Nothing. I need someone to run errands for me – I am at our cottage in Eregion and can't leave. My companion can not travel far enough to reach Imladris and our supplies are running out'

Feather took a moment to think 'We are at the crossing of Mitheithel and Bruinen, on the Mountains' side. Give us two days and we will pass near Dol Erui. That should be a day's or two walk for you to meet us. We will wait there'

'That would be enough. Don't go farther out of your way'

'Wait a moment' Feather vanished from my range 'We have enough supplies – what we can spare should last you for…several weeks if you're not picky. And two pack horses to spare – take them and when your companion can ride, come to Imladris for the winter'

Feather closed the connection before it became too great a strain. I waited for the dizziness to leave before I got up and returned to the cottage. At least luck had been with me this time. I would have expected Feather to be somewhere near the Rath Morthil for the winter, with the Wild Elves. But he obviously preferred the cover of the valley for the snow-season. Well, luck for Raven and me. Feather was not the one to meddle with private business, if I asked him to keep Raven's existence to himself, he would.

Raven's POV

I woke shivering when the sun had vanished behind the trees and left my spot in shadow. Gildor was not around, and I felt restless. Sleep always brought disconnected scenes that could not be called dreams, and it disrupted the continuity of the waking world. Whenever I woke, it was with the feeling of despair on my heels, snapping after me like wolves teasing their prey. I could cope with nightmares filled with Orcs – I had got myself into that, I could get myself out of it again or deal with the consequences.

But not with dreams that were memory more than dream, of my people. They made me want to go back, and also told me I could not and did not really want to. To go back now, without Niy'ashi – that was worse than staying out here alone or with only strangers.

Which posed another problem. The situation was all open and unresolved – I was here with Gildor, and dependent on him. I was at a loss here, having no idea whatever had to be done in and around a dwelling like this, and felt fairly useless. I could not pay off some of my debt by hunting and securing some of our supplies. I could not even hunt for myself, furred or unfurred. Even if I turned wolf I would only spent a miserable winter of scavenging and sleeping in foreign territory as I was in no constitution to run with a pack.

I shook my head, trying to drive away the clinging feeling of hollowness from the dream-world. I had to clear things, at least try, though most did not seem to lie in my power.

Walking did not help. I crossed and re-crossed my own path, meandering through the forest restlessly. The sun sank lower. If worries were like wolves, to run from them was inviting them to give chase. When the shadows lengthened in an early dusk I felt like dropping down where I was. Everything drove me away from company until I had figured things out for myself, but despair was stronger. I _was _alone without Niy'ashi. And as much as I loathed the risk of admitting it, I did not want to be.

When I reached the cottage once more I stopped at the edge of the clearing, suddenly feeling my legs would not carry me one step further. Gildor was in front of the door, chopping fire wood into small sticks. All that I had meant to ask, to say, dropped from my mind and for a moment I was paralyzed and unable to grasp any clear thought. The feeling was similar to the shadow paths gone wrong, with only twisting nothingness around me. Whatever faced me in that world and here, in the waking world, it was too great for me to cope with. I dug my hands into the rough bark of an oak beside me, unable to speak a greeting.

Gildor noticed me nevertheless. He hesitated, then stuck the hatchet into the block and came over. He halted a few steps from me.

"Come inside" he said simply and held out his hand. I transferred my hold on the tree to Gildor, thinking I would fall into emptiness if I let go for one moment. Gildor deposited me in one of the chairs and gently disentangled himself from my grip.

It took a considerable time until I felt sane again. Curling up in the chair I watched Gildor light and stake up the fire in the main room. My heart refused to calm down, setting me on edge as if I was anticipating an attack and was ready to run. Only when the Elda pressed a cup with some steaming liquid into my hands I realized I was thirsty and hungry.

It was dark outside. I shook my head slightly. Things simply slipped past. I was aware that Gildor was watching me worriedly, but neither did I have the energy to spare to react nor did the Elda press me for answers.

"I have to go meet with someone on the way to Imladris in two days" Gildor said when I finished the wine "Feather's company can spare enough supplies for us that I won't have to go the whole way to the valley, and he said they have horses as well. I must meet them some miles from here, or they would have to go out of their way too much to be on time for their own business"

I looked up, terrified "I can't stay here alone!" I said before I could restrain myself, clutching the arms of the chair to keep from jumping up in half panic.

"Why not?"

I made no answer. Gildor got up and knelt before my chair so that I could not avoid looking at him "I have to walk fast. You cannot possibly keep up that speed right now" he said gently.

"I can" I whispered stubbornly, wondering if I would beg if Gildor refused me. I forced myself to hold the other's searching glance and prayed for the right answer.

"Then we will have to start early tomorrow. We _will _be slower"

"We can go now"

"No" Gildor shook his head decisively "I will not travel by night here if I can avoid it" He did not comment on my current constitution anymore and instead announced he would better see to our travel gear then.

The next day was still clear, but colder than the day before. We started out in the grey of dawn and reached the end of the small forest at sunrise. We paused for a moment and watched as the shadows retreated across the grasslands. I bit my lip. What seemed like plains to me were probably just meadows to Gildor, and the seeming vastness of this land did not help my feeling at all.

We crossed the grassland and entered sparse forest on the other side again. The land started to fall gently as we moved away from the mountains and towards the river-crossing. At midday we rested for some time in a light fir wood before moving further westwards. Gildor stopped every few hours for my sake. By late afternoon we had reached the thickly forested land near the rivers. Here young birches and ash made up most of the trees, interspersed with meadows and bush-grown areas. There were many brooks and we stopped at one near dusk.

Under the trees it was darker already, and I took a moment to recognize the tracks in the soft mud. The brook flowed into a wider space there, and the banks were smooth and muddy. Several animals came here to drink and bathe, I could tell by the tracks, but I had almost missed out the few paw-prints of a single wolf as I came down to the water to drink as well. I knelt and laid my hand beside one of the tracks, thinking longingly of wolves.

I missed them. The soft sounds wolves made, the smell of their fur, simply their presence.

"Wonderful" Gildor looked at the tracks sourly as he refilled our water-flasks "That is just what I need. Wolves. Probably Orcs as well"

The print was as large as my hand. Gildor crouched down and looked at me quizzically when I sat there for a long while, lost in thought "How come I think you don't feel very worried?"

"Because I don't" I looked at him uncertainly. For a moment I just wanted to say the truth, tell him everything right now "There are no Orcs near. Even if there were, you need not worry the pack would attack us with them"

"It hardly matters if they attack together or one after the other, don't you think?"

I had nothing to reply to that. It was fully dark when Gildor woke me. I stared at him, aghast. I had not meant to sleep, let alone so long. I had not even realized I had fallen asleep, and I still felt utterly exhausted. I swore violently, making Gildor raise his eyebrows in amusement at my collection of curses.

"So you can speak some more Sindarin" he remarked dryly when I had finished "I suggest you save your breath, because we will have to go on now"

It was long after midnight when we stopped once more. I walked behind Gildor in silence, using every shred of energy I had to keep up. I'd die before I asked him to slow down I swore silently and counted the seconds.

The place we chose for our next rest was not the ideal campsite. There was neither water nor any cover, only a ring of low bushes before the surrounding trees. Gildor dropped his pack and stretched. There would not be a fire tonight, which was fine with me. I knew he wanted to know what connected me to the wolves, but he remained silent after a look at me. He also swallowed any remark or question concerning my condition and we shared some bread and dried fruit in silence. The moon rose late and behind a veil of high mist. Wolves began to howl, not very far away. Several voices joined in, and it was hard to tell their location. I started out of my half-doze and almost dropped my bread. For a moment I stared away into the darkness, caught in the slow unravelling of the wolves' messages.

"Who hunts in this country?" I asked.

Gildor shrugged "Anyone who cares to. It is not settled land"

I frowned, but said nothing more. Wolf-speech was hard to understand when I was unfurred and did not have the immediate understanding of the wolf. I was not really sure what they were talking about.

Gildor's POV

We reached the valley at night the next day, some hours after dark. I stood listening for a while, but could make out no sounds to give me a clue. There was a small area of higher ground within the shallow valley. That was a common meeting place, and it was logical to go and wait there as Feather and his group would either already be there or come straight to the place when they arrived. As it was late evening of the second day I surmised they were already there.

"There is-" Raven said, but then the huge hound crashed through the underbrush and bounded around us, giving a short bark which boomed through the still night "- a dog coming towards us" Raven finished.

"Rhyn" Feather's voice ordered sharply out of the shadows "Daur. Sorry" he added to me, leaving his cover "There have been wolves around all through the last two days and we let the hounds loose to keep them away. The beasts followed us all the way from the South Downs, since the Rangers had trouble there with them" He embraced me warmly and greeted Raven as well "The hounds are on edge. We won't let them hunt, it never works out well when they fight with wolves"

I glanced at Raven, who looked uncomfortable but remained silent. The four other elves with Feather I did not know. I saw two of them only briefly, as they were keeping watch and disappeared into the trees as we passed. Just as well, I thought. Less questions.

There were seven horses picketed in the clearing on the hill and a small pile of supplies. After a brief greeting Raven sat down at the edge of the clearing, trying to fade into the background. He fought valiantly to stay awake but finally complied at least in so far as to close his eyes. The dogs stayed away from him, sniffing suspiciously from some distance. Raven growled softly when he sensed them near and they retreated. I watched him curiously for a moment, but then had to turn my attention to Feather.

"I thought you were with the Rhevain" I said as we sat down for a moment "South, or maybe near the ruins"

"Not this year" Feather said "We were in the ruins this spring, but not long. Then they went east to trade what they found. I had been there last year, and Tharbad did not draw me that much. So I went to Imladris instead"

I grinned. Tharbad was a well-known hazard, among the rhevain especially "Why then are you here now? You come from the south, don't you?"

"Ah, not really. I was on my way back from Mithlond and met some rangers. They had trouble with wolves going for the little villages, near the Downs. I had no message to carry back to Imladris, so I went with them to see what was going on. But with the beginning of winter the wolves retreated, don't ask me why. We had assumed that the cold would bring even more near the village pens" Feather shrugged "So we are now on the way back to the valley"

"Don't you think there's a hitch? With the wolves, I mean. Something worse you are in for than them?"

"Hm. The thing with the orcs fleeing because the trolls are coming? Don't know. We scoured every bit of forest from the coast to the foothills of the Hithaeglir and back, and there was nothing strange. Well, the rangers will tell us if anything happens" Feather got up "Come on, I'll show you the hayburners we can spare"

As he had said, the beasts were pack horses. Bulky and slow, but calm, good natured creatures with shaggy pelts. I would have no trouble keeping them at the cottage which only had a small, half-open shed. The whole thing was not built for permanent living after all, either for elves or horses. Like the other horses of Feather's small company the two strayed freely among the trees but came to us at a call.

"Plough-horses" Feather said with a wry smile "There was a farmer who had them to spare after getting two younger ones. The only time you will have trouble is going off with one and leaving the other. It works, but I tell you it's hard work"

"I don't think I'll have to" I said "We need some basic supplies, the rest I can provide by hunting or for once using my rhevain knowledge"

Feather grinned "Wild onions"

"Among else"

"Do you really want to go back tonight?" Feather asked later as he and I distributed the supplies and loaded them on the two horses "We can stay a day or two before running late. Your companion does not really look fit to move tonight"

"Hm. I would" I tightened the straps to secure the packages and leant against the horse "I don't think Raven would be pleased to…have so many people around"

"So many people?" Feather laughed softly "If we are many, I can see he does not want to go to Imladris"

I shrugged "So he says"

"What do you know about him?"

"Little. And less I can tell" I smiled apologetically and Feather grinned "My. Mysterious, is he. So-" he clapped a hand on the horse's rump "You have supplies. You have horses. You know the way to Imladris, I assume. See you either this winter or – well, sometime" he smiled and added "Take care, wanderer. The lands are not nice any longer. But that you know as well, I guess"

"I do" I said wryly "Don't worry. And I think we'll see each other at least once this winter – supplies, you know"

We walked back towards the mountains until some time before dawn, leading the horses. Feather's words about the wolves lingered in my mind, as wolves howled several times during the night. At dawn, we stopped in the place where we had rested the day before and picketed the horses carefully lest they got spooked and ran. The wolves were nearer, and I felt my skin prickle uncomfortably. I watched Raven, who suddenly appeared tensed as a bowstring.

"They are more to you than just occasionally friendly creatures" I stated, eliciting a startled glance from the dark elf. After finding Raven in the company of wild wolves east of the mountains that was a self-evident truth. For a moment Raven looked as if he would speak, but then said only "Yes. They are friends"

"And does their friendship extend to leaving us in peace?" I wrapped one of our blankets around my shoulders.

Raven looked up abruptly "Let me call them"

"Are you mad?" I snapped "I want to return alive"

"I…you…they will not harm us" Raven seemed flustered.

"I am glad they _are _not here, what the hell do you want to _call _them for!"

"I need them" Raven whispered "I have grown up with wolves. Please"

I was mystified. As far as I knew Raven would burn alive before _begging _for anything. But was that a reason to risk serving as wolf dinner? No.

"Raven, I value my skin intact. And I am in no mood for a thrill. Leave them where they are and be glad they seem to have no interest into widening their menu. You have heard what Feather said. These are not tame beasts, th-"

"I know" Raven interrupted me hoarsely "They have no interest in eating us. They are fleeing! It -" he broke off "I will show you. Look"

He walked to the edge of the clearing. For a moment he stood listening, then he – _howled. _I leaped up. I would have never believed anyone could produce such an utterly _wolvish_ howl. Even the best imitations of the most skilled hunters retained some…elements of well…imitations. I was fascinated – and then enraged. I crossed the distance between us and spun Raven around. Before I could say anything Raven said "Wait. Please. Just wait"

He took my arm and walked back to our packs to sit down, tightening his grip on my arm. For some reason not clear to myself I obeyed. I was too curious, I supposed.

"There they are" Raven whispered some time later. I did not bother to nod. I had seen the drifting shadows and the reflecting eyes. The light was grey and misty under the trees. It heightened the impression of danger. So close. The leaves and undergrowth rustled softly when the wolves came into the clearing. The horses whickered softly and shifted a little, but they did not panic. I tensed. There was nothing between us, nothing to keep the wolves from attacking. There was a soft thudding on the dead leaves as the wolves drifted around us. I had never seen the beasts so close before, except the few times I had actually killed them. And I had no spear now. Only a knife. Four wolves.

Raven squeezed my arm slightly and shook his head. I followed his eyes – and looked directly at one of the wolves. It looked back with sharp yellow eyes, taking my stare and turning it back on me. I dropped my gaze hastily.

With some effort I kept my eyes down, not feeling well in leaving the predator out of my vision. Raven released me. The wolves came closer, and I could sense the movement of air as the beasts passed, I could smell them, feel their hot breath as they sniffed at me. I concentrated on their fur, the motion of their paws and legs. After a while I felt their scrutiny pass and they concentrated on Raven.

With much more directness. The wolves nudged him and sniffed all over him, leaning into his touch. For a while Raven avoided direct eye-contact but then something shifted in their interaction and that rule seemed out of operation. For all I could see these wolves could have been hounds. Raven held the head of the wolf that had stared at me before in both hands and pressed his brow against hers for a moment before letting her go. The wolves settled around us, never approaching the horses or touching our packs.

"She leads" Ravens said softly, stroking the wolf's fur slowly "This is her pack. They are…I have no words in Quenya" he looked at me helplessly "If you…they will stay here for a while…you need not keep watch. I…will sleep. They will not…they won't do anything. Just…you ignore them now, and they will ignore you…you could sleep, too"

I frowned, trying to find an intelligent answer to the jumbled words. I looked at the wolves in the clearing and back at Raven, shaking my head. It was one thing to _speak _to beasts or to understand them, but this – and with wolves – there was an absurdity to this that ran counter to anything I had regarded as stable laws before. You did not trust wolves, just as you did not trust Orcs.

"I don't think I feel like sleeping right – now and here" I said tightly, wondering if I was angry or simply at a loss. Raven curled up on the grass as if nothing had happened, one of the wolves rolled up at his head. One left the clearing and the remaining two settled at the edge under a bush.

After a while I got up and walked over to the horses. The wolves watched, but did not stir. These were mortal horses. I did not trust very much in their reasoning – right now though, they were puzzled but obviously took my word for it that things were fine.

Wolves. I wondered what Fairё would have to say if she were here.

I waited until midmorning. With the wolf lying half across Raven I would not move to shake him awake, so I once more settled on calling his name. The wolf pricked his – her, I remembered – her ears. She glanced at me, giving me another of those blood-curdling stares, but looked away first.

Raven's POV

I had slept deeply, feeling calm and quite safe with the wolf's presence so close. I did not want to get up, to leave the wolves. It took me a moment to shake sleep off. Late morning, I could tell by the slant of the light. I sat up and looked at Gildor. I would have to explain this. Things had got out of my hands since Gildor had found me with the wolves, back with Caladur's elves. I had not meant to be so stupid as to call the wolves to me, but…_well. _

The wolves drifted after us as we started off once more. They had fled from whatever trouble had been at the South Downs, but this was wolf land. There would be fixed territories here, and as long as the wolves travelled alongside us, the resident packs would not attack them. I wondered if they would actually stay on until we reached the cottage, or drift off to seek unoccupied land along the mountains' feet. I could not say how long or how far we had walked. I only realized that Gildor had stopped when the horse I was leading halted. Gildor dropped the rope of his own horse and walked back to me. He shifted the packs on the mare's back and tied her rope to his horse in front.

"Get up"

"What?"

"Get up. Now that we have horses you can at least ride" Gildor pushed me towards the mare and boosted me up, ignoring my protest.

"Just see that your wolf friends stay a safe distance from me. We will reach the cottage by nightfall this way"

A little while later I was glad I needed not walk. The shifting walk of the horse made me sleepy, and exhaustion tugged at me. Gildor _was _setting a brisk pace indeed, and we did not halt, except for the horses to drink at a brook that afternoon. I braced myself against the mare's withers and closed my eyes, listening to the swish and thud of the horses' hooves on the ground as we went. The wolves were still with us, but when we came out into the wide meadows the wolves kept to the forest and drifted aside. I looked up, feeling strangely detached from the present as I stared at the stars high above that seemed to sway as the horse walked on. The wind blew strongly here, unchecked by any trees. The wide open space reminded me of the dunes, the shore. Which brought me sharply back to the present. I had not solved anything yet. Probably I had only made it more complicated.

When we reached the cottage I helped unload the horses and supply them with water and hay in the half-open shed at the back of the cottage. I had not noticed it was there, but since hay and straw were stored here as well as fire-wood occasional horses were obviously planned in. We lugged the supplies inside. Gildor stored the things away and I flopped down on the bed, unable to keep sleep at bay any longer.

Gildor's POV

It was long after midnight and I still sat in front of the fireplace, trying to concentrate on a book. Glinael had brought it from the Imladris library some time ago, and I wondered what he had done to get Elrond to lend it to him. The lord of Imladris tended to be very touchy where the library books were concerned.

Fine. And Glinael forgot to take it back and now Elrond would probably tell me off for keeping it here so longAnyway. This was an old, leather-bound volume about hunting and nothing that could help me now, not even for distraction. I had wanted to go to sleep several times now, but kept waiting. I could sense something was wrong, or rather, that Raven was so screwed up that it reflected on _me _without even touching him. I would not have hesitated to wake anyone else, but this was the first time in days that Raven actually slept. I did not want to wake him before I truly had to. I could judge by his tossing that he was not having a pleasant rest, though. Finally I snapped the book shut and went over to wake him.

I had expected Raven's reaction to be violent, but not an attack. Raven made a strangled sound, snarling something that sounded like Orcish. I barely managed to catch his arms to keep from being hit. Whatever nightmare was holding him was obviously neither deterred by the seals nor intending to release him without a fight. At least his dream-induced attack was clumsy enough that I could shake him off and push him back on to the furs. Reaching Raven's mind at the same time I met only blank panic. Raven stared at me for a long moment, panting. When I loosened my grip he twisted up and scrambled away, backing against the wall, a look of wild fear on his face. For a moment I thought it was because of me, but a little probing with my mind told me Raven was still – _somewhere else. _

"Raven" I sat down at the edge of the bed, trying to fathom what was going on.

"No" Raven had cornered himself by backing away and cast a haunted look around, seeking escape "No" he hissed again "I won't. You can't make me!"

"Raven! _I _am here. I am not going to make you do anything!" I reached out a hand slightly without making any earnest attempt to come closer. Raven ducked, his hair falling before his face. He made a swift, fidgety movement to brush it back, shifting as if ready to leap. He didn't react to my calling his name. I could not reach him at all. I made a quick grab and once more caught Raven's wrist "Raven! Hell, listen! No, LOOK at me" Raven sucked in his breath and jerked up his head. His eyes narrowed slightly as he focused on me after a moment. He blinked "Gildor. Please. Let me go. Let me go!"

At least he recognized me, I thought, trying to calm my own pounding heart. I let him go, knowing suddenly that if I ignored his plea _now_ I would never be able to win his trust. Raven retreated even further into his corner, staring down at the furs and struggling for control. It was not so much what Raven _had _experienced that terrified him now, I could sense that, it seemed – more general. His remembering had only been the trigger. Whatever had happened, it was not about me.

"Raven?"

He was quicker in control again than I had expected "I – I'm sorry. I…had a…nightmare. Have I…hurt you?"

"No" I said "No you haven't. I won't make you do anything. I won't. Alright?"

"What. Have. You. Seen?" Raven demanded in a startled hiss.

"Nothing" I said evenly "Nothing that would give you away. Only that you're frightened, and I don't know why"

"And that is nothing? That is…_everything_"

I hesitated "Maybe it is. If it is, you'll just have to trust me on this one. No. Don't look away again. Look here"

I laid one hand on the bed, palm upward "Take my hand. I am not going to hold you. I promise"

Raven glanced at me, the same fleeting glance I had seen him give anyone whom he had to deal with of Caladur's clan in the past days. He looked down at my hand for a long time. This was not about what I had done in the cave, not about fea-raika. Raven seemed to have got over that fairly quick, in a way

I could not say how much time passed. I kept my own eyes down, avoiding to look at Raven. Finally he reached out slowly. His hand was shaking as he placed it over mine, ready to snatch it back.

"I won't hold you" I repeated "You take my hand now"

Another long hesitation. I could neither see nor sense what was going on in Raven's mind. He blocked both direct probing and unfocused empathy. I had to find out how he did it. Any healer with empathy would be dying for a way to block it out occasionally.

When Raven finally closed his fingers over mine his touch was gentle and shaky. I felt relief wash over me. Raven looked up suddenly, puzzled "You are – happy" he blurted. He let go of my hand slowly and gave me a wary, almost weighing glance "Why?"

Being shielded against my probing obviously did not prevent him from sensing _me_ "Because I thought I was going to lose you" I said.

"But- what do you want with me? What…can you expect - ?"

"I want nothing, and I expect nothing, Raven. Fea-raika did not open your mind to me, certainly not as much as you seem to fear. What I have…seen of you was mostly limited to the moment" I said carefully "What was going on _at that time_. I did not read your mind or see any secrets"

Raven looked tormented. He still had not moved. I got up to bring some distance between us "At least come out of your corner. Do you want something to drink?"

"Y-yes"

I brought him a mug and a jug with water and stowed both beside the bed. Raven had dropped some of his tight shielding and I could sense the turmoil behind his calm bearing painfully clear. I could also sense Raven's unwillingness to acknowledge it and knew it would be wrong to address it in any way yet. So I left him in peace and retreated into the small sleeping room after banking up the fire for the night.

Chapter Notes:

According to the _Atlas of Middle-earth _the Company of the Ring took 14 days to reach Hollin Ridge from Imladris – I assume the cottage would be about 9 (or more?) days on foot from the valley for a swiftly travelling elf or on horseback, but only about two from the meeting-place Feather proposes-.

Dol Erui: (S) "the first hill"/ "the lonely hill"

Rhyn: (S) hound

You'll have to wait for chapter 34 on my list to find out who Feather is…

10


	34. Chapter 34 Changewolf

**Changewolf**

TA 2907

Raven's POV

"_We cannot live like this forever" Onakir had said "I have spoken with your father, and he says in any case there will be trouble. Maybe not yet, maybe only far away. But that which is spreading this _koth'shina _has reached here already. He says the men in the lowlands are following it. So when you go westwards, try to find out what goes on. What the Bright Ones think. If there is a way we may help – tell them. They may have…shaman, too. Maybe you find them, and they will know…they will know what to do, when to act. Time is running out, and we should not fade or be destroyed unnoticed. I see not what is to come, and the hawk shows me little I understand yet. But things will happen, and they will start from the east, from our homeland, or very near. There is a place east beyond the great sea where the hawk never flies me. I cannot tell you what to look for. Maybe we can be of use in the events to come. But warn us at least"_

_The black is running. Four paws hit the soft floor of the forest in a pounding rhythm. Undergrowth and trunks rush past. Ahead, a buck running, galloping wildly but purposefully, fleeing._

_The hunt is not yet decided. The wolf sees the white tail bobbing almost mockingly before him. He leaps-_

_The black cowers in a cave, hiding. But it is not the wolf – he was not wolf – I was not wolf - the cave – no -_

I woke with a start, panting. Pushing myself up I looked around wildly, not comprehending the cottage surroundings for a dizzy moment. A candle was burning on the chimney shelf and I stared at it, shaking. It took me a long, empty moment until I recalled a word for what I saw – candle-flame. Quenya, for Ashi'kha had no word for it.

Cursed dreams.

Gildor gave me a quizzical look from where he sat by the…_fireplace_. That word, too, was long in coming.

"Maybe you should not go back to sleep for a while" he said dryly.

I shoved the covers aside "Probably"

Four days. No, five. How long ago since we first met?

Anyway, the cave had changed everything. The time of _knowing _and _not knowing _the other had become meaningless.

"Mind if I…join you by your fireplace?"

"Not at all"

I rolled myself in a blanket and curled up in the armchair. It was comfortably warm in front of the flames, and for a while I simply sat with my eyes closed. It was long since I had felt the heat of a fire last. Felt it comfortably. The orc-fire hardly counted. But I could not remember when. Niy'ashi had been alive then.

Out of a confused darkness of not knowing, not hearing, not recalling conscious thought finally rose to the surface. I guessed I'd be here for a long while, so it didn't seem to matter if I put the cards on the table now or later. There was no point in keeping things secret. I was not cunning enough for that. He had seen too much. He would know. I owed him. I had no idea what else to do. The only thing I knew was that somehow, sometime I would have to finish what Niy'ashi and I had set out to do. I would need help. I feared so.

Except that I might be a little smarter in telling the truth when I could think straight again. Gildor was rummaging in the next room.

"Raven?"

I flinched. I had not heard Gildor return and only now became aware of the smell of herbs and – something else.

_You are _inattentive, _wolf. This will cost your hide if you do that in the wild._

Angered at myself I pried my eyes open and had to blink in the firelight.

"Here. Try it"

I sniffed. Vaguely, I recalled the scent "W-wine?"

Cursed sounds of Quenya. Maybe if I got myself drunk I could sleep -.

"Spiced wine"

"Plan on drugging me?" It was hard to find Quenya words.

Gildor made himself comfortable in his own chair again "I wouldn't try it with wine. Coming to think of it, I suppose you would not be happy with me if I tried at all"

"No"

The wine had a better effect in warming me up than tea. I wondered how much I would need if I actually wanted to get drunk. By what I remembered from Niy'ashi's and my first acquaintance with the stuff it could not be that much.

The fire was crackling. The sound and smell of it still vaguely alarmed the wolf.

You can't talk straight while you are sober, so don't even think about getting drunk I thought.With an effort I brought my mind back to the present once again. I might keep my remaining pride in telling him outright. I gave in to my own reasoning

"What do you want to know?" I said abruptly "Ask, because I am not a story teller"

Gildor raised an eyebrow "Going to divulge some secrets of yours finally?"

"Some"

Gildor took a moment to think. He could have started his questioning with a well-what-are-you-anyway and made things easier for me.

"Start from the beginning. Where are you from? Except 'Dark Mountain'?"

I rubbed my eyes and kept them closed for a moment. The flickering light of the fire was uncomfortable. My eyes could not decide if to focus on light or shadow.

"I cannot answer that really. I…I was born in the north, in the…my people call it Eversnows. My clan was driven there by orcs years after my father had come to the clan. We stayed in the snows for several years, but many of the clan died and the survivors were not…happy in the ice. So we returned when we thought it might be safe. We went to our old home in the…Orocarni. But we kept travelling, because all the lands had changed. There is a mountain range north of the Great Water. Of…Rhun, I think you call it?"

Gildor nodded "The Iron Hills. I thought that was only Dwarf land"

"Yes. But we live…not underground" I said "That's where we are now. The Iron Mountains. Hills. In winter, that is, sometimes. Usually, we stay east. But our summer camps are much nearer the sea. Rhun. But there are not many dwarves anymore, in the Iron Hills. I don't think we ever meet. We saw them, yes, but they never see us…Our - my father is not of the clan. He came over the mountains after the destruction of…Gondolin. Over the mountains of Gondolin, I mean. Fleeing. And met my people. Or rather, they found him. They were far away. Only so, they found him. K'ashi did"

I broke off and stared into the fire, blinking. It was harder to speak even this detachedly about my clan than I would have guessed. I didn't know if my eyes stung from the firelight. I missed K'ashi more than I missed Khai'la, or even my father. For a while, there was silence.

Gildor's POV

I sucked in my breath sharply at the mention of Gondolin. Luckily Raven was not looking at me and did not notice my reaction. By the look of him, he was having his own share of unpleasant memory. But what struck me most was the revelation about his father. A few days ago, he had said 'somewhere among his ancestors' was a Noldo. Now it had become his father, and that changed a lot. At least in my opinion.

"K'ashi?" I asked.

"My…of my clan. He…is my friend. My…almost like my father"

"And your brother?" I asked after a moment "When did you get soulbound like…like this?"

Raven took a deep breath "I don't know either. We've always been, I think. I…cannot remember a time…without. Or before. It simply was…that way"

"And if you are such a secret people…why are _you_ here? Why did you two leave the clan?"

"Wolf clan had…people to…go outside, sometimes. For hunting, and then for trading. After father came. For things we cannot produce ourselves. It is always a risk, because we do not even speak another language. Before f – Hurondil came, I mean. We never went out to trade, before, ever. But with bits of Quenya it is easier to find people and to trade. They think we are…Avari. So Niy'ashi…Fingal….and I were-" Raven groped for the word "-'scouts' I think will do. We traded with humans and other dark elves, but we also went far beyond the…lands of the clan, later. N-…Fingal had been doing it before, and when I was old enough I went with him"

"Your sword? It looks _old_"

"Oh" Raven turned the mug in his hands thoughtfully "Fingal's. My father's, originally. It is, I suppose. Old, that is. He brought it from Gondolin, it belonged to a friend of his. He gave it to Fingal. When…Fingal was slain I would not leave it, so I took it with me. It's there, have a look at it" Raven gestured vaguely.

I went over to the bed and picked up the sword in its worn scabbard. It was a one-and-a-half-handed blade, heavier than my own. I wondered if Raven knew that such a blade was often called bastard-sword. Given his permission now I slipped it out of the scabbard – and was glad my back was to Raven so he could not see my shock. Raven had mentioned Gondolin already, but I had not expected to meet _this_ blade here, again-. The traitor's sword. Anguirel, the Iron Star. When I thought I had composed myself sufficiently I turned around, holding the blade into the light with one hand, resting the naked tip on my forearm not to leave fingerprints on the steel. I thought I felt a slight tingling emanating from the blade, and dismissed the sensation angrily. Old, bad memories. Gondolin followed me like no other thing I had experienced. I could hardly think this would leave me calmly untouched. The metal gleamed dully black in the firelight, and the fine lines of an engraved inscription could be seen.

"Can you read it?" Raven asked quietly as I shifted the blade to look closer at the letters "Father could not"

I wanted to ask if he knew who 'that friend of his' father's had been, what his relation to Hurondil had been, but then I would have to reveal I had been there. No. Not yet at any rate.

"You know its name?"

Raven shook his head "Thorn. That is what father called it. He said this first sign" Raven pointed at the twisted symbol as I knelt in front of his chair "he thought meant Thorn"

The writing was twisted and coded. Moreover, it was Telerin. Ancient Telerin.

"It does" I stared at the letters absently before bringing my mind back to the present. I held the blade so Raven could see the symbols right side up "_Thorn of the heavens, created by death of the light, bound in the darkness, stills the blood that it draws"._ That is what this says"

Raven stared at me "_Khai'toh_" he said softly. Before I could ask what that meant he said "What does it mean?"

"I have no idea" I said "You have carried this. If neither your father nor his sons can't say yet, my guess is as good as yours" And that was not strictly a lie. I could _guess_ at the meaning of the first line - Anguirel was supposed to have been made from iron that fell from the skies. So much Maeglin had said. But the rest was as obscure as its maker had been.

For a moment Raven looked at me strangely. I returned the blade to its scabbard thoughtfully.

"What about Fingal and you anyway?" I asked "What – _why _– did you have to…scout so far from your lands? And how did you two get in conflict with the orcs at all?"

Raven took a long sip of wine.

"We…agreed to do this for our clan's shaman. Far-scouting. He thought…thinks…a great…trouble is coming. For years the orcs have become more, in the mountains especially. The men in the east are…different from what they were. They fell more trees, the kill more beasts. They kill more among themselves than they used to. And many of them go into the west. What you here call the east. They go to Mordor, I know now. So Fingal and I, we gathered news, or tried to, to find out what was going on which Onakir - Nightchaser maybe would not see on…shin'a'sha…in the dream world, I think is the closest. We are fighting with the orcs for our lands up there now. With a few, we can share. But they hunt as well, and they hunt a lot. So do we. They multiply, and our prey flees or is killed by them. So we kill the orcs when we can. Fingal and me, we were good at that. We killed them before they even came into our lands"

Raven gave a lopsided smile "We – no, I have to start the other way. Orcs do not care for wolves. But sometimes they hunt them for fur, sometimes they hunt them to capture them. Fingal and I watched them, and we killed those groups off especially. We…went to quite some lengths to free the captured wolves. One day, things went wrong. We just…took on too many"

I digested that "You take all that trouble for _wolves_? What is that with you and the wolves? I think you could come to _that _now"

Raven nodded slowly "My people…live with the wolves. Very much so. It was they who helped us survive in the first place, in the eversnows. We have…some kind of…bond"

Raven emptied his wine "I cannot _tell _you. But I can show you all. Just promise me this – do not _tell anyone_"

I frowned "What are you implying?"

Raven shook his head "Share my memories. I can try to tell you, but words are not…correct. I can explain nothing. You…have done it before, touch my mind again"

I shook my head doubtfully"That won't be pleasant. I only brushed your mind when I did that searching while we were with Caladur's clan. Now would have to really touch your mind. And you cannot shield at all if I do that"

Raven had been bitterly interested in avoiding any chance of mental contact, even refused to let me treat his wounds after the first evening. So what he had to say must mean quite a lot to him, enough to bear with the pain that still would invariably come with a touch.

"I can't make the contact, you must do it" Raven snapped. "You did much more two nights ago. So do it now before I can think about it"

"If you…do not have the words to explain, wait. A few days more, it does not count. As long as you will tell _then_"

That was obviously tempting but Raven shook his head decisively. "No. Do it now. It will not make a difference" He got up and sat down on the floor "Come. It is now or never"

I hesitated but then took a seat beside him. Raven dropped his shields and reached out to take my hands. He could block physical pain to a degree, but unshielded this was unstoppable, like fire lancing along his veins. He tightened his own grip before I could let him go. I tried not to dwell on the feeling of strangeness and intimacy of that contact that allowed no distance at all. Raven did not fight me this time, so I needed much less energy to complete the contact.

'Well then - show me'

Raven's POV

For a moment I was at a loss. The wolf's reflex was to jerk back, and it almost overruled my own attempt to stay still. I was in control now, which was something I had not expected. But this also meant I had to organize what I wanted to share. So I concentrated on what Onakir had shown me. This was almost like the shadow paths. For the time being, I was cut off from my body and all the discomfort of it.

Yet, I felt Gildor's apprehension, and judged that the Elda was feeling out of his depth for a change as well, following memories not his own, memories shared by me and wolf alike.

This slow unravelling of memories, of picking out things within them, was hard. With Niy´ashi every connection had been instinctive, unguided. Neither of us had needed to control what the other was 'seeing'.

_- Niy'ashi, teaching his little brother to fight with a knife - a sunny afternoon in summer, we were chasing each other over a wide meadow – this was the land of the ever-snows, and we knew we would try and go back to what many called home -_

_- my father, talking to me in Quenya – the other way round and Hurondil fumbling with a new code of Ashi'kha, we laughed when word and accompanying image did not fit -_

_- a weed-grown clearing in the moonlit night, total silence in the forest ; Niy'ashi is crouching behind me, around the edge of the clearing several Ashi'kha crouch in the trees; when the orcs – scrawny ones, much smaller and lighter than the fighting breed – come into view, searching, sensing the prey they have been stalking, unaware they were being the ones led astray – they do not care for the wolves close by, wolves often follow where orcs go – then the pack turns on them, driving them right into the clearing, towards the archers -_

_- Niy'ashi and I creeping through a low tunnel; there is water rushing in front, and a pack of lean, half-starved and ill-treated wolves follows us, fleeing from their hunters -_

- _the pack of the valley, greeting me as I approach them; the white female, whose name is Joy, running by my side on the hunt – sleeping beside me in the den, curled around new born cups -_

_- I call the wolves, crouching at the invisible edge of a territory, waiting for them; when the leader answers I call the change, feeling my senses stretch into the awareness and sharpness of a wolf's – it is no effort to change, I do it so often it is like shrugging off a garment –_

_- the sequence of a hunt alone, searching the scent, following it to the doe, the long hard chase until I overtake her, kill, eat..._

_- Niy´ashi arguing with two traders, exchanging rabbit furs with salt and flour –_

_- the black wolf running at breakneck speed flying down an icy mountain slope; a horse thunders out of the trees to the side and the human rider throws a spear that grazes my flank – blending into another run, but this time sylvan elves surround the pack, fending us off with torches –_

_- orcs, swarming around us, Niy´ashi stands with his back pressed to mine, gripping father's sword –_

_- a rainy, moonless night; I am alone, completely alone – gripping the sword tightly – once Niy'ashi's sword – I creep along a muddy rift in the ground, the one thought to kill in my mind –_

My hold on the connection faltered. It took me a moment to realize that the wards were holding and the void Niy'ashi's death had caused remained…removed, further away. Gildor held on to keep our connection from breaking before I realized what was happening.

'What are you!' Eldarin mind-speech was skilful, used words, allowed distance. Father had never spoken like this to us. He had used our way. I was at a loss how to reply. I had ever only sent in images, emotions – no distance possible in Ashi'kha mind-speech – images were sent as they came to mind, as they were. I had never mind-spoken father, I realized suddenly, not outside speaking the ritual code of Ashi'kha. It took much more focus, much more concentration to form words – much more energy.

'I am as you have seen …-…that my people are -'

'I do not understand'

'I am the wolf'

puzzlement

'Let me go. I'll show you'

Gildor drew back, and I felt myself floating free, a curious sensation of falling and drifting at the same time. Our connection broke off with a snap. Too fast. We were not attuned enough to each other to break the contact at the same time. _I must find out how to do this smoothly_ Gildor thought numbly, I caught that fervent thought, and almost laughed.

He released me, and I sucked in my breath, suddenly feeling my body again, the pain of the bad-healing wounds. I looked up, suddenly panting for air. Gildor seemed –shocked? Repelled? I could not tell. The Elda's control over his features was perfect. Some time passed.

" 'I'll show you? " Gildor echoed then, unbelieving.

No going back now. "Right" I tried to get up, and promptly my knees gave way.

"Ho. I'm not going to kill you, so don't do it yourself" Gildor caught me and pulled me to my feet, steadying me. I was so startled at my sudden weakness that I could only cling to him and wait for my mind to catch up with the situation. I managed a hoarse laugh, thinking how absurd the wolf must seem in here, in this…cottage. "You tell me -"

Gildor looked at me searchingly, mystified. I tried to catch my breath, not knowing where it had got to "Gildor, I mean it. My people _have_ been killed for being what we are, and I can see why"

"Wolves!"

"Precisely"

"You _are_ no wolf"

"_What _have you seen in my mind?" I demanded "You are not blind, or do you not _want_ to understand? I just _told _you! I need not justify my being what I am, I'm certainly not a spy of Sauron! Don't you think you would have felt _that_!"

Abruptly I looked aside in submission, the wolf telling me I had gone too far with a superior. For a moment I stared at the ground, torn between resentment and the wolf's infallible wisdom. I backed away and shook off the gown I wore. It wouldn't do for the wolf to stumble over some garment.

"What - " Gildor began, but I cut him off with a snarled command. I wouldn't manage a showy change, standing, and even less leaping from two-legged to four-legged in one go. Wolf anatomy demanded a crouching position if I had to remain still during the change and did not want to fall once I was wolf. All the more with a change as wobbly a one like this was going to be.

Gildor's POV

"_Don't_ - touch me now" Raven ordered sharply as I made to move forward. I retreated when I felt…energies called up. It wasn't the green energy of plants I could use to set wards, I couldn't call it magic either - it was something utterly foreign. I knew Raven had a way of calling power from the land, but this was still different. I could not place it, could not decide if I should be prepared to defend myself. A shadow seemed to flow over the crouching dark elf – or was it only a trick of the flickering firelight? – no, the shadow rippled, deepened. I had seen something like this before. Darkness flowing from the fenced land, smoke writhing through white paved streets…

Dimly, I could make out Raven's form, but it seemed to twist – abruptly the shadow vanished, flickering, and I faced a wolf in place of the dark elf. A huge wolf, black like midnight. I strangled a cry, fighting the urge to kill that…_thing_…or to run, reaching for a knife I did not carry at the moment.

_Coiling darkness – in a land now buried and changed._

_Twisted creatures, only a mockery of what they originally were-_

_Fire stop the werewolves._ The only warding spell I knew came to mind. The only one I had ever learned _and_ managed to make work. With the smouldering ruins of Gondolin at my back and the slaughter of the misty plain around us, when the wolves had turned up. Time righted itself, and I realized none of the evil was here that I had felt then.

The wolf did not get up, did not move. He lay on his belly with one foreleg stretched out, the other curled under his breast, his head lowered so that his muzzle almost touched it, panting. Finally the wolf looked up.

I stood frozen, completely taken aback. Somewhere in my mind I registered that the wolf had Raven's stormy grey eyes. Shaped and piercing like a wolf's, and much more direct than Raven had ever met my eyes before. For a moment, the amber stare of the wild wolf of two days ago looked back at me.

What I had seen fell into place. Finally.

I took a step back to put my hand on the solid wooden post.

So the rumours were true after all

Dark elves running with wolves.

Hunting with them.

Werewolves.

Dark Elven fea trapped by Melkor – were they the spirits that inhabited werewolves? -

No, I was blabbering. He was as solid as I was, I had seen him, I had felt him.

He was an Elf – as well.

I thought he was.

The wolf averted his eyes and rose, slowly, gingerly, setting down paw after paw. He had seemed gigantic. Now I saw that though he was taller than the wild wolves, he was less massive. He stood stiffly, as if fearing to fall. His flanks were still heaving with rapid, forced breathing.

_The energy_, I realized. It had been enough that I had felt it at a distance. As they were within a building and the power had not been wholly Raven's own, it must have been called from outside. The change had probably taken most of the strength Raven had regained during his brief rest before. This was no glamour, no called up image, I knew. I could see through _those._ Several wild ideas came to my mind, half heard whisperings and superstitions.

Drink from the wolves' river. Eat their flesh.

Call their spirits, drink their blood.

So you become one. Human sayings. Werewolves.

Could I talk to him mind to mind? _Is there a mind to talk to?-_

Raven's POV

The damn cottage prevented me from drawing all the energy I needed from the outside. It was only a wooden barrier, but it was dead wood, and it was enough. The cottage slipped out of focus as I changed. Clumsily. It felt as if the ground was bucking.

Then the wolf's sharp senses crashed into my consciousness, overlaid it.

_Fire-._

I tried to twitch away from it.

_No, ignore it._

It was a good thing I was on the ground already, it took all of my power and will to pull through the change, a sure sign I had overreached his limits. For a split second I hovered between going on and letting the change slip. I had never before been forced to struggle to control the change, control the wolf.

'You'd be lost in the wild'

The wolf seldom panicked, but he did now, for a second, before I was fully in control again.

I found myself on the cottage floor, the intense scent of oiled wood stinging in my nose. It was always an effort to keep unfurred's awareness in control of the wolf, but now it was thoroughly exhausting. I felt as if I had swum against a tide for a long while.

Looking up I saw horror on Gildor's face, smelled his fear.

For a moment I thought it wise to flee, but knew I couldn't. The wolf was sensitive to stares, and Gildor stared at me. I avoided his eyes again so as not to be mistaken for challenging.

Gathering awareness of my body I managed to stand up. I had meant to jump to the couch, try to reach Gildor with mind-speech, but the wolf felt the pain just as keenly as unfurred this time.

I took a step forwards, feeling the fire roaring at my back, feeling the wolf's fear of it. I got tangled up with four feet, and almost fell. To keep at least a shred of dignity, I lay down on my belly before I could stumble once more.

Gildor seemed to swallow the turmoil in his mind and after a moment, knelt beside me, expecting obviously that I would attack him roaring.

Gildor's POV

The wolf looked up, sharply.

"Raven - ?" I talked to Faire as if she were an elf. Yet it felt so stupid and absurd addressing a wolf this way. Could he understand me like this anyway, if I talked?

This was Raven, I repeated. I had known about shape-shifting, technically. This was just the confirmation. When he felt hands on his pelt Raven obviously lost control over the wolf. Snarling, he jerked his head towards the touch, and I snatched my hand back from the bared fangs, ready to jump away completely. With a force of will I stayed on the ground where I was, beside him.

That had been a snarl, a warning, but the wolf had not snapped. The wolf was panting, shifting on the wooden floor. He licked his muzzle, seemed uncertain.

"Raven?"

This time the wolf looked at me, really looked. I had a disconcerting feeling of the dark elf's and the wolf's awareness fixing on me. He ducked his head and with a thud lay back flat on the floor.

I lowered my shields '?'

The wolf looked at me. Then, all of a sudden the wolf's bright, raw awareness was fixed on my mind, mixed with Raven's at least half familiar presence. ' '

Another shift 'Gildor. Yes. You can – you can touch me now. I am sorry. I won't bite. I think so'

It was hard to puzzle through that. No words at all. I felt my heart racing, my hands shook. I was afraid and knew it. Stretched out on his side the wolf was almost as long as I was tall. And he _was_ a wolf. Forcing myself to stay calm I slowly reached out once more. The wolf – Raven – gods, this _was_ strange – followed my move, the grey eyes burning into me. I touched the black fur of the wolf's ruff lightly. No feeling of darkness, of the Shadow. When nothing horrible happened, I reached further, stroked the wiry hairs firmly. Underneath the guard hairs was thick soft pelt. Just to touch the wolf made more real what had happened. It was the first time I touched a wolf. A living wolf. And for all the world, this could be a simple wolf.

'There is nothing simple about wolves'

'I should give more credit to rumours'

There were lots of books, yellowed manuscripts by unknown authors. Tales told at night around campfires. Any wound the changebeast received would carry through the transformation. Demons and spirits of the dark, that was what controlled werewolves, that was what gave power to the one who invoked such a spirit. There had been no incantation.

None that I had heard.

'We are one, the wolf and me'

'Yes, I…see'

In the firelight the black guard hairs shimmered like liquid. I ran my hands over the wolf's side. The ribs were sticking out beneath the fur. Suddenly it occurred to me that this touch might be somewhat too private. Embarrassed, I drew back.

'Sorry'

The wolf did not open his eyes 'Never mind'

His mind-voice was blurred with weariness.

'There is no such thing as shame among wolves. Not the way you feel it now'

'But you are an elf as well -'

I remembered I had unshielded to touch the wolf's mind, to be able to understand the mental images at all. I had no idea how far or what he might be risking -

_No. I would not even think of it._

'I am…wolf…now. Elven conventions lose their meaning then. Just as wolf conventions don't need to…apply to…the elf. You need not fear to…embarrass me' A pause ' What do you think?'

' I don't know what to think'

'You think me…dangerous. I mean no harm either' Another pause 'Does this…repel you?'

I considered that for a moment. This was suddenly as if Faire had asked that same question. There was only one answer 'No'

I reached out to stroke the wolf's ruff again. 'I have never thought about this…well, really happening. There were rumours of course. But'

Why _wolves_? How-. I tried to order my thoughts.

'Are you wolf or Elf?'

'Both. Neither. I cannot answer that question. We are born as elves, if that is what you mean'

'There is no other…form…you can…take?'

The wolf's ears twitched slightly. He glanced at me, sensing all the implications to that question through our connection.

'I am no shape-changer. There is only…the wolf. I am in full control of…the change. It is…our nature. Not a curse' Raven hesitated 'At least I think so. I have heard…talk. There are no rituals. No special time. No incantations. We…change at will. Shift. Anytime'

The fire crackled. The candle had burned low. Time, a long time had passed. With an effort I turned my mind to what had led us to this.

'Raven, your people will take some conviction out of your allies'

'I know. They will fear us. They will think we are…in league with the dark forces. Demons. Just as you did'

'Wolves run with orcs. That is usually enough to prove that. Well, to our eyes anyway'

'Yes, to your eyes. But these are no wolves then'

'What do you mean?'

'What kinds of wolves do you know?' Raven persisted.

'Wargs. Werewolves. Normal wolves. What are you playing at?'

Hesitation.

'We think…wargs are…_creatures_ of evil. They are to wolves what orcs are to Elves-. Werewolves are like…Nightchaser believes they are…elven fёar the…Dark Lord warped, and sent to possess wolves…as lesser servants'

'What do you know of fёar?' I interrupted, startled, hearing my own thoughts of a moment ago echoed. 'I thought…'

'That dark Elves would not know?' Raven's mind-voice was sarcastic. 'Some may not know, yes. But you forget who my father was. And the Ashi'kha learn fast. Werewolves are…normal wolves taken over by an ev- such a spirit. We do not know how it happens, where these creatures come from or what happens to them when the wolf dies…but this can happen to any creature. It does not mean wolves are…more susceptible to evil-. My people are…call it changewolves. Our name would translate as…fur bearers. No. Turns furred. Becomes wolf. That is what A_shi'kha_ means'

'Yes-'

For a while we fell silent.

Raven's POV

I felt sleepy now. The warmth assisted to that, and the wolf held my fear of dreaming at bay, as well as my pride. I could sense Gildor's mind racing, but he kept his thoughts carefully shielded now. As I had told him, unfurred's conventions did not hold when I was wolf. Gildor absently kept running his fingers through my fur. Once the wolf had got used again to being touched it was a pleasant sensation. I fought to stay awake. The night was getting old.

"Heavens, Raven, we're idiots" Gildor said suddenly into the silence.

The wolf took a moment to register the spoken words and form a reply.

'I know I am, but what makes you think so of yourself?'

'Oh hell. It just feels like we could have settled all this so much easier. And we can discuss werewolves' natures later'

"Come on now" He tugged lightly at the wolf's fur.

Alarmed, I jerked my head up, flattening my ears 'Where?'

"Well, I can't let my guest fall asleep on the floor"

'I don't mind so much – at all'

I got up nevertheless and padded towards the couch. I could not muster the strength to leap, so climbing it was. With an effort I placed my forelegs on the couch. Still too high. My back legs threatened to give way.

'Can you-?'

Gildor hesitated, catching the mental image accompanying the sending. But he had no better idea to get me up on the couch, so he obeyed and pulled me up by the ruff. I flopped down on the furs.

The wounds under my fur stung. I did not have the energy to lick them, though the wolf longed to ease the pain by that.

'Will you – stay like this?' Gildor asked uncertainly.

'I – yes, I'd rather. I…I don't have the energy to change back so soon'

Gildor settled himself beside me on the couch. To my own surprise and a little shame I was grateful that he did not leave. The wolf saved me. He did not care about pride at all.

'What about you?'

"I have a lot to think over"

I stretched into a comfortable position and fell asleep after a while, safe with the wolf keeping nightmares away.

Chapter Notes:

Anguirel: "Then Beleg choose Anglachel; and that was a sword of great worth, and it was so named because it was made of iron that fell from heaven as a blazing star…One other sword only in Middle-earth was like to it. That sword does not enter into this tale, though it was made of the same ore by the same smith…Eöl the Dark Elf…gave Anglachel to Thingol as fee…for leave to dwell in Nan Elmoth; but its mate Anguirel he kept, until it was stolen from him by Maeglin, his son"

_The Silmarillion, _"Of Turin Turmabar"

I took the freedom to call Anguirel Thorn, add an inscription and one other ingredient (see _RDCTS The Third Battle/ End of the War_); Eöl was "a tall elf of a high kin of the Teleri" ("Of Maeglin"), so I assumed he would have engraved the words in Telerin.

13


	35. Chapter 35 Hollin Ridge

**Hollin Ridge**

TA 2907

Gildor's POV

_Life can't be measured in gold_

_But in the feelings that you hold_

_With all your hopes and all your fears_

_There's so much to share_

_She always let her beauty shine_

_It was something so divine_

_I could lose myself in her eyes_

_And be the wind in her hair_

_She comes to me in my dream_

_More beautiful than I've ever seen_

_And whispers words of love and hope into my ear_

_I don't want her to go away_

_She tells me she would like to stay_

_As I see her wipe away a lonely tear_

_Time cannot take away her grace_

_I can still see her face_

_It's been carved in my heart buried deep_

_I just wait until the night_

_When she and I unite_

_She will be mine as long as I'm asleep_

_Colours in the Ice had always had a special quality. Bluish, and even colder than cold. Silver. Under the starlight, and then suddenly under the moon, the Ice had always glittered cold and silver._

_There had been no scents in the Ice. In sharp contrast then, the wide lands of Middle Earth, full of grass waving in the night-wind, full of sounds, scents and life._

_Moonlight on silver hair - _

As we sin, so do we suffer – that was what they said, wasn't it? –

I crossed my arms tightly and suppressed a shiver, wrenching my mind back to the present. I could move closer to the fire, but looking outside at least offered some diversion. The weather was foul, and anyway, there was nothing to do right now. There was even enough firewood. Raven took care of that, moving about gathering dry sticks and small splinters with the urgency of a hamster in late fall. I had already split the larger chunks into handy bits. Our water-supplies were filled, too. I wished repeatedly that Faire was here, that I could have ridden out with her. But this land did not lend itself to pleasure-rides at the moment. Aside from dark dreamlike memory I could not decide what bothered me most, Faire's absence or the fact that the black wolf was scouring the forest alone. I had not forgotten the two orcs that had for some reason ventured into the plains, though Raven appeared singularly unimpressed by the possibility to meet other stray orcs in the foothills. We _were _near the mountains, after all. I think he was hoping to find some. I knew vengefulness when I saw it, my own case included. But I did not trust the dark elf's physical strength yet should he find orcs. He had recovered remarkably well, but there were instances when his carefully guarded reactions told me he had overestimated his current constitution. Well, I could do nothing now. Except waiting. And waiting made my thoughts drift. So I stood staring into the dense fog from behind a veil of drops on the window pane.

Window-pane. Even this cottage had been furnished with glass. My company had already made bets how long the panes would remain whole, no matter that we always locked the shutters when we left.

Cold emanated from the glass. I had counted on reaching Imladris for the winter, but right now I was glad not to be there anyway. Raven was not an easy companion, though on terms of arrangements it was quite comfortable to share close quarters with him. He seldom seemed prey to boredom – and if he was, he curled up in the sun or in front of the fire and slept. By day. The nights he usually spent awake, busying himself with anything available that would not make a racket. He had already accumulated a small supply of bone arrow-heads. I was waiting for him to complete the shafts, curious to see how the arrows would fly.

My mind kept returning unmercifully to the past today. I swore inwardly. I would not torment myself with the past by seeking the Dreampaths wilfully, but time and again, whenever I was not careful, the dreams tended to return without summoning them. After so long a time, memories of Silmarussë had not lost their edge. Not that I expected them to, but I wished my memory was less accurate and lively whenever that happened. And once they had a hold on me, it was near impossible to shake them off.

The decision _not_ to wed had been as much rebellion as cold reasoning based on that decision. Even when first spoken the words of that decree of the Valar had hung over us as a threat. And when long years later we stood in the dark looking at the herald of doom and thought of binding ourselves before the uncertainty of what lay ahead, Silmarussё had made the decision for us.

"_Tears unnumbered you will shed_" – then there was no need to increase the sorrow of all with personal sorrow that could be avoided

"_Slain ye can be, and slain ye shall be" _– then there was no need to bind with personal bonds what had been tied into shared defeat by the words of prophecy. Enough to _know _what we were to each other and no matter if one more Valinorean law broken – a private vow, and our own law – not to bind each other in life, not to bind each other beyond death

"_In this matter it shall not be lawful for any of the Eldar to judge his own case" _- yet we were outcasts now.

"_Not even the echo of your lamentation shall pass over the mountains" _- on our own, it would be us who decided.

The fool's hope of outwitting a Vala.

"_For who among the Living can discern the thoughts of the Dead, or presume the dooms of Mandos?" _– If we were not wed in the Law that Mandos had decreed, would we not be unable to be held to it? No marriage willed in life, no one would be bound beyond death.

A binding that was more like an un-binding. Partners, lovers, comrades-in-arms.

But traditions were carried over the Ice, frozen into stasis like so many memories of bliss, both bringing only sorrow to the new lands.

We are not children any longer. It is us who decide. We are warriors. So she had said. And she and many others had paid the price for that freedom. We had been fools when we had still thought some day we might allow our union to bring forth the children it was meant to produce. In times when war was so imminent no warrior thought of truly begetting children. That was one part of the law we agreed with. Because we both fought.

Would I have had it otherwise? Maybe. But what about her? What would she do if we could make our choices over again?

I looked in on the horses in their shed behind the cottage. Nothing to do there either. It was cold and a heavy dampness lay over the land. Eregion-weather. I knew it never failed to drive the rhevain mad when they came here. If they did, they travelled light, carrying no rain-shelter – that meant days on end all their camps were an affair of sodden possessions. Somehow I ended up behind the window again.

Raven had not changed in my range of sight, but I knew he had gone as wolf. Whatever he did out there escaped me. What did wolves do on their own – if they were not even true wolves? I wondered if I truly wanted to know. Still, I suspected he was trying to deal with his own troubles. He quickly became snappish if someone started to 'pry', as he called it. I did not cherish people's prying either, but his _completely_ unforthcoming way about things concerning himself often irritated me. Sometimes he aced as if fea-raika had given me to know _everything_ that concerned him. At least Raven also sensed when I did not wish to address something that was troubling me, and therefore he pretended not to notice.

I glumly watched the fog thicken and rain start to fall, trying to shake off the clinging memories and figure out what I could do for distraction. I was far too occupied to notice Raven's noiseless arrival and yelped in surprise when he appeared at my side. Raven started as well and frowned.

"I called your name twice already. I thought you did not _want_ to hear"

"Gods. Please, make some _more _noisewhen you come in"

"Should I throw stones when you don't hear me?" Raven looked at me thoughtfully, obviously debating whether he should leave or no. His hair curled with dampness, and I refrained from asking_ when_ he had returned. It couldn't have been long.

For a moment I was not sure if I wanted to be alone or was relieved at Raven's presence.

"You have come back soon"

I expected an answer like 'I can go back out if I disturb you', but Raven only shrugged "I did not make it into the mountains. The first small river I encountered was so deep and strong I could not cross without finding a ford. All the streams will be as full as after snow melt" He moved away from the window to curl up in a cushioned chair in front of the fire. If I remembered rightly the stream he would have encountered if he had gone the way I thought did not possess a ford. It went swift and strong in its deep ravine. Sometimes you could wade it, but if it ran high you could only cross where it had its source, much higher up in the hills.

"What about you?" he asked after a while, addressing my back. "Tell me if you'd rather be alone"

I turned away from the window undecidedly. I could back out or answer.

"I was thinking about someone" I said noncommittally. Raven watched me with the long patience of the wolf. After a while I sighed. "Alright, my…wife"

For a brief moment Ravens stared at me in open surprise, y_ou had a wife! _written large over his face. He was good at hiding his feelings, but sometimes it was very easy to see what he was thinking. So far he had been the one to make me goggle, and I almost grinned that for once it had been my turn.

"Oh" he said. I think it took him a moment to put what he knew of Eldarin customs together with what he knew about me, and then he wasn't sure what to say. Such conversations were always treacherous ground, no matter if I faced one of my own people or a dark elf.

"She is dead?"

I suppressed an irrational surge of anger. I had answered, naturally he would catch the ball I had passed on.

"Yes" I pushed myself away from the window ledge and took another chair close to the grate "She…we were not married, officially. We were…partners. And we came across the Ice together" I could see that Raven knew what I meant. Probably his father had told him. Hurondil must have been very young when we left Valinor, but old enough to remember it. Idril's age maybe? I couldn't say and it wasn't really important.

"She was slain bef-…in the First Age" _Before_ _Gondolin_ I had almost said. But memories of Gondolin seemed worse than memories of the Ice, sometimes. And somehow I still did not want Raven to know I had been there.

"If losing one's wife is anything like losing a soulbond I can not imagine how you have fared" Raven said to my surprise. Since initially telling me of Fingal and him he had never mentioned either his brother or fea-raika again. If I had unintentionally hurt him more than fea-raika inevitably did he was not prepared to show it, and I was wise enough not to ask.

"And you have –well…stayed alone all the time since then?"

'We wed only once in life' I nearly said, and immediately was furious with my instinctive retreat into the husks of a law I had never really heeded. I had to laugh suddenly "Thank the gods you're dark elven or your first reaction would have been a frown and a 'but the law…'"

"I know the law. Your law" Raven said softly "_"Therefore when one of the partners of a marriage dies the marriage is not yet ended. There can be union only of one with one. The ending of will must proceed from the Dead, for the Living may not for their own purposes compel the Dead to remain thus, nor deny to them rebirth, if they desire it" _"

I stared at him, probably even more dumbstruck than when he had turned into a wolf right in front of me. I had had similar conversations, and sometimes arguments, with various people, and more than one had quoted that passage to me. That Raven with his hissing Quenya repeated the words so correctly seemed almost absurd. Raven gave me a small smile "I only know that part because father had a hard time accepting how my people handled matters"

"Something tells me your people's way is…quite different then" I said finally.

Raven shrugged slightly "Very much. But tell me first what you did"

I bit my lip but answered anyway "We had the notion we might…be better off in regard to our people's law if we…tried to bypass it without breaking with it completely. Not bound to…taking no other…partner for ever after the other's death. And no, I did not stay alone. Not all the time"

_Then why were you alone when you met me? Why are you still alone? _The question was as obvious as the rain drumming on to the roof. I was grateful Raven did not ask it. He would have got us both into trouble if he had.

Neither of us needed still be alone. I shook my head at myself. What was I doing, thinking like this? We knew each other for a handful of days, we pried information from the other, but that was it. Too many unshared things lay in between. I knew so many dark elves, and that very few came even close one might consider more than company. Just as I knew no one among my own people who might even come _that_ close.

"You dream of her. Like…you know, I dream of Fingal"

I glanced at Raven, but he did not meet my eyes. "Yes" I admitted.

"Were you…there?"

"Yes" I got up abruptly, unable to sit still any longer. Some part of me wanted to talk about this, another only wished to curl up in front of the fire and sleep. I went to the cupboard and poured mead into two glasses. Raven raised an eyebrow but took the offered glass. I leaned against the window sill once more.

"It was not the…fact that…it actually happened. I…it could have been me just the same. She…was a warrior. We had – we knew there was the risk – a great risk – to…lose each other. It was worse that it was a mean thing. A small mean dirty battle. For nothing in particular, really. We were a small company. We thought we had been ambushed. It had been only a small group of Orcs of which we killed all. But that had been only a feint. The real ambush waited a mile ahead. When we thought we had finished with them. Three of us survived. The other two wanted to go back and fetch a reinforcement before we hunted the rest of the Orcs" I shrugged "I did not wait. It took me a year, but I got them. I was not…nice"

Raven turned his glass in his hands thoughtfully "You'vegot your share of revenge"

"I don't know"

He looked up, and only then I realized that I had spoken aloud.

"I don't know" I repeated "Sometimes. And sometimes…it is very satisfying to prolong revenge. I still hunt them"

If there were orc-hunters I accompanied, it was the twins. They too could not bear to hide in Imladris and just occasionally venture out trying to turn the fortunes of the unceasing war. We did not even tell Elrond. He strongly disapproved of his sons' quest for revenge, and would have been mad if he knew I went with them.

"Is that why…you stayed with Caladur when they attacked the orcs?"

I nodded "That, too. But I had also enjoyed his clan's hospitality for a year. It would have been my duty to stay"

"Hunt with me" Raven said suddenly "Let us hunt them together"

I watched him thoughtfully for a moment. We both were aware of the tension of our unresolved relationship. Here came an opportunity to wrap it up neatly. There would be difficulties, yes. I could see them coming as clearly as clouds in a wintersky, but who cared? For once, it would be me, I realized, who would have to compromise. Raven was not the one to lecture or to pick on our different customs - if one was bound to find things strange I knew it would be me.

I took a breath and let it out slowly. Several of my friends, or maybe rather close acquaintances, in Imladris kept counselling me to set that grudge aside. To stop trying to kill whatever orc I might see. Why? Well, I could see their point, sometimes. Sometimes, I came to Imladris to forget about hunting, the wild, the orcs. But a few moons of rest, and I found that their reclusive ways, their keeping alive of ancient custom and memory, grated on me. Nothing in that helped me to cope with the world as it was. I was always grateful to be able to leave again, to join one of the scout-companies of the valley, or to go with the twins. Even the rangers would do if there were no rhevain I could join. One thing I had learned was that going alone was _not _favourable anymore, except if it was Faire and me. And here was Raven, and he himself gave me the opportunity to join him.

"What about the others…The ones that did not stay with you and Caladur?" Raven asked when I hesitated.

"No" I said "I am not bound to them. I was just thinking…I have never travelled with a changewolf"

He gave me wry, almost shy smile "I have never travelled with anyone except my brother or a pack of wolves. I don't know how I will get along with _vach'khan tohr_"

I must have looked my question, because he added "That is what my people call you. The Eldar"

"_Vach'khan_…?" I stumbled over the strange, guttural sound.

"_Tohr_. It means…it means 'the ones with…power'. 'With fire'" He made a small gesture to the blaze in the grate "You know…a few days ago I was terrified thinking I had to stay here for winter. I have always only been…wandering. Places accumulate memories. But…well, I suppose it can't be that bad. Will you go with me in spring, then?"

Raven was clutching his glass, trying not to show his tension. I realized how much it cost him to say even this. To ask for my company. I could not so much share his fear as understand it. It was weakness admitted to say one needed or desired company – it was a risk to admit.

"We will go together" I said "I don't care where, you choose. Just keep in mind I cannot blend into a wolf-pack"

He smiled another wry smile, nodding "Tell me why…do your people make it so complicated with partners?" he asked after a while. "When both you and Silmarusse knew that chances were so great losing each other, then your decision was very wise. At least in my eyes"

I returned to my seat once more. This was Arda Marred. The ideal of one to one may have worked fine in the Blessed Realm, but traditions simply did not change. Not when they should. Hell, and that from me. I had to go back there one day.

"So we thought it wise as well" I said "We thought a lot, you know, and little turned out as we hoped it would. But what about your people? You must have some…laws as well"

"Uh" Raven shrugged uncertainly "I'm not sure if you can call that laws, really. We have no decree on who chooses who as partner, and when. It is really a thing that is mostly…dictated, you would say, I think"

I frowned in puzzlement "Dictated? By whom?"

"No one. The seasons. Nature, if you will. We…if each of us could only choose a mate once, we would not exist at all now. We would not even have survived the starlit dark. I mean, there are not a terrible lot of us. Many are killed, or children die. If the partner is not killed unions hold…well, 'for ever' you would say, but…we do not wed like your people do"

"Which means? Who made your laws? Nature does not make laws"

"That could have come from Nightchaser" Raven said with a smile "Nature is a law in itself, it does not need to make them. Pack law allows only the leaders to breed. The strongest, those that are most suited to lead. Wolves are much too occupied with living and staying alive to worry about mating without the aim to breed"

"But the Valar made Arda – and nature therefore…"

"We do not only _live with_ the wolves" Raven said quietly "You know that we _are _wolves to some degree. And my people do not know of the Valar. The little we know about them comes from my father. We learned from the wolves. And the way nature dictates the whole thing is simple for us – a wolf pack survives by producing offspring according to the number that died, and to the food that is available. We need not worry about food that much, really, but our children take longer to grow than a wolf cub, and they die easier. Wolves mate in winter so that the cubs are born in spring. So _we_ mate in summer that our cubs are born in spring as well. After the snow melt. When most young are born, and prey is easy"

I shook my head slightly. We_ mate_? And our _cubs_? Were they_ beasts? _Well, they might not feel that was an insult "So we come from marriage laws to wolves"

"Yes. And the point where they meet is this: both the wolf people and the Ashi'kha mate to produce offspring. And we firstly choose a _mate, _and only _then_ a partner"

"Then it would follow that your mate…is not necessarily your – partner? Nahar's balls, we _are_ different"

Raven laughed "So said Hurondil as well. Repeatedly. But he left out the balls" he took a sip of mead "Flames. Are you going to get me drunk and hope I fall asleep and stop pestering you?"

"What, with one glass of mead?"

"You have no idea"

I pushed a jug towards him "Put water in it"

"What?"

"Put water into the mead. It makes it less – potent"

"Oh" Raven picked the heavy jug off the floor "Maybe I should put this stuff into the water instead of the other way round"

I smiled "Why don't you have a mate?"

Raven almost choked on his mead. He snorted "Are you joking? Me!"

"Well, who else is here? And why not you? I can't imagine it's because no one would want you"

He only shook his head. "Me!...I…am not for that, raising cubs. - Children" he amended as an afterthought "They have only two legs but make more trouble than a whole litter of wolves"

The first snow came early this year, a few days after that conversation. Somehow, that had driven the old memories successfully from my mind, though. I concentrated on finding some understanding of Raven, especially of the wolf. I realized he was not wolf as often as he would have wished because he thought I had a problem with that. I addressed it bluntly and after that he spent most nights as wolf. The first two evenings were strange business. It took me while to get used to finding a large, black wolf in front of the hearth or curled up on the bed. For a while, I had to touch him to be able to mind-speak him at all then. I used that time well, I think, so that it soon was no longer strange to sit down beside the wolf at night.

Then I tried mind-speaking him as I did with Faire, and suddenly we could communicate quite easily. Though the connection was rather personal it saved us much trouble and effort and so we stuck to it.

Winter deepened and more snow fell. I turned my attention to gathering green stuff. There were enough acorns to save our flour for a while and bake flat bread from acorn-mush. I found chestnuts, late berries now frosted over, wild onions and ground-mushrooms. We were quite careful with our supplies, and once snow had fallen, the wolf brought back hares or grouse almost nightly. Sometimes he brought even squirrels. He quietly took over all hunting, though the long trips exhausted him. Most days he lay on the floor before the grate, fast asleep. I suspected he hunted so much and so far just to be able to sleep.

Midwinter approached, and for the first time I felt a small pang of regret for not being in the valley. As much as I disliked prolonged festivities, the light-feast on midwinter's day was worth being there. Thinking of lights reminded me that once spring came, we would have to make one trip to Imladris to stock up all the stuff we had used here, especially candles. We had already started saving those, using fat and oil if we needed extra light beside the fire.

Raven had railed the night before at a deer that had narrowly escaped him, complaining that he was unable to make descent prey anymore. When I had suggested a hunt together he seemed surprised that I would consider the possibility. So it was two days from midwinter that I collected my own hunting-gear and called in one of the horses which I had let stray in the forest and saddled him up. Raven, or rather the black wolf joined me and we set off in the blinding bright light of cold, sunny morning. I had hunted with hounds before, and immediately found the difference between the wolf and a hound most startling. And satisfying. Of course there was no pulling on leashes, but neither any yipping or barking. The black drifted alongside or in front of us silent as a shadow which the sun had not managed to burn away. There were several tracks of deer or boar that I could have followed, but having the wolf here saved me from lots of futile stalking. He ruled out more than half the spoors we found, judging some tracks too old, others as smelling too unpromising. He finally picked out one of what he identified as a young boar and fell to tracking it.

Boar was not my favourite prey. I counted the risk to kill one, whether young or grown, much higher than the otherwise neat solution of securing a whole week's worth of meat. I leaned over my horse's neck as we passed low branches "Are you sure that is wise?" I asked doubtfully "If you want to flush that one out remember there are tusks at the other end"

'Wise, no. But I am hungry' The wolf flicked his ears, and went on. My horse was not pleased at having to go alone, but even less with the wolf flanking us. I had my hands full keeping the horse on course and silent so that we met the boar sooner than I expected. It was a small beast if compared to a sow in her prime, but vicious all the same. The black led me on a merry chase after an unsuccessful try to get his fangs into the creature. The flurry of wolf and boar had made it impossible to shoot or throw a spear. My horse forgot about his mate back at the cottage as we thundered through the snowed-in, silent forest. That was probably the first time anyone had ridden him to this speed, and he appeared to like it. I did not even have to keep him behind the boar, he followed the beast on his own. We closed the distance to the wolf and the fleeing boar after a while. The black had skilfully manoeuvred it into a small gorge, where the boar turned at bay. For a moment the wolf alone sufficed to keep it hemmed in, but when I arrived on horseback the boar knew what it was on for and charged the black. He was bowled aside with a yelping growl, but this time I had my spear ready. Still, I rode a plough-horse and though he obviously had a liking for chases, charging boars were not what he was made for. With a squeal, he twisted aside and I had to throw myself off his back if I did not want to sacrifice both my impact and our prey. The boar gave a high piercing scream as the spear hit it, and I almost jarred my shoulder because I could not land on my feet or roll to the side. I knew I had to hold on to that spear at all cost if I did not want to encounter the raging boar at the other end of it much closer. Then the wolf was there, all growls and fangs which he sank into the twisting boar's throat. The boar gave another shrill scream that stood my hair on end. I hastily pulled out my knife and moved into the melee, jabbing the blade into the rough bristles on the boars neck to severe the spine. Abruptly the screaming ended and only the wolf growled softly. I dared not push him aside from our prey, uncertain how he would react, so I flopped down gracelessly into the snow to catch my breath and rub my shoulder. The wolf retreated from the dead boar after a moment and shook himself. He, too, was panting.

"Are you alright, Raven?" I had to consciously remind myself that this _was _Raven. Only when the black met my eyes and I saw that they were Raven's was I sure he had understood me. There had been a very unsettling certainty in the way he had sunk those fangs into the boar.

'You had better gut him here. I will round up your horse'

I glanced around for my mount. At least I could see him some distance away and he had not gone right back to his mate. I nodded "Don't kill him"

I quickly rolled the heavy boar over and gutted it. I was about to bury the entrails under snow when the wolf returned, brushing past me and knocking his muzzle under my arm, staring upwards. I followed his gaze to the crows and ravens silently gathering in the bare branches.

'Leave it. Happy'

I took that to mean the birds would be happy and vaguely wondered if the entrails in question also seemed inviting to the black. He definitely honoured them with a greedy glance before taking off at a trot to herd the drifting horse once more into the gorge. My mount was very much displeased with the fresh blood oozing from the boar, steaming in the cold. I washed my hands with snow and fumbled with the rawhide strings I had brought, hoping to tie the boar to my saddle. By the time I had convinced the horse to just stand still long enough that he would not strangle himself with the strings my fingers were numb with cold. The sun was sinking rapidly. I had not paid so much attention to the time we had actually needed for this hunt. The boar left a furrow in the snow as we dragged him back to the cottage. I hoped it would snow soon, just to cover the tracks.

By the time we arrived the horse was exhausted from the unaccustomed work and the frenzy into which he had worked himself smelling the fresh blood, the black was still panting and I was cold and tired. Still, at least Raven and I were pleased with the day – there would be meat for nearly a week, and a quantity of fat and oil for burning. The hide Raven would tan for use as patching for his assembled clothes. He managed to sew furs and hides of almost any creature into a motley but never scraggly looking attire.

I would have been happy to hang the boar into a tree to tackle tomorrow, but it did not feel safe leaving it out there, smelling invitingly of blood. The black appeared by my side as I loosened the strings holding it to the horse 'You see to horse. I see to boar'

I laughed "Going to eat already?"

Raven seemed amused, and the wolf shook himself thoroughly 'Not today, no. I will respect your fire'

When I had finished with the horses and made amends for the day bringing my involuntary hunter an apple to add to his dinner I went round the cottage. Raven had changed, but he was barefoot and wore only a loincloth despite the bitter cold. He seemed perfectly unaffected by the snow and had already hoisted the boar to a hook in the wall and carved most of our prey to handy bits. Part of the meat we took inside to roast right away, the other part we filled into a large copper container and covered it with snow to store in the icy bathroom for a few days until we could roast that as well. We lugged the container there and roasted the meat for our evening meal on sticks over the fire in the living room. I had expected to find some spectacular bruises on Raven from the encounter with the boar, but the thick fur of the wolf had obviously kept off most of their force. There were two long scratches where the tusks had penetrated the fur, but Raven dismissed my inquiry with an impatient grunt.

We ate in comfortable silence for a while, gnawing the bones clean. I found it very pleasant that there was no need for conversation for politeness' sake and my thoughts drifted on their own. I flinched and looked up at a loud crack.

"Sorry" Raven grimaced, chagrined, holding the ends of a snapped bone. He meticulously cleaned the marrow out before tossing the ends into the fire.

"You will go, one day? Into the West?"

The question was so unexpected that I dropped my piece of meat. I leant forward to pick it up. When I sat back he met my gaze steadily. I looked away first.

"I…don't often think about that…about the West" I said finally. Why on earth did he have to bring that up now? I had neatly forgotten about it the past few days, and gladly. What hope was there that Silmarussё had been released from Mandos? She, who had gone as a warrior in her own right, and not simply followed in someone's wake? What – how – could we be what we were once? If at all. There was just no way to know.

"What is your interest in the west?" I asked instead.

"Just…so. Never mind"

"I do mind" I said "What interest has a wolf in the west?"

"Not the wolf" Raven stared into the fire "I was told, I'm not a gull" he said softly after a while "And ravens don't cross the sea"

Now that wasintriguingWas he thinking what it sounded like?

"Would you want to be?"

He shook his head "Want, no. Wonder, yes"

Gull and raven. He was not saying half of what he thought or could have said.

"You are thinking really far ahead, for a wolf, aren't you?"

Another shake of his head "The wolf does not worry, no. Speaking of which – would you mind?"

"No" I said with a smile "Of course not"

So Raven turned wolf and stretched out before the hearth, completely exhausted. I curled up in the armchair and enjoyed the knowledge that we had hunted well enough not to bother with anything for a few days, watching the firelight play on the shiny black fur. I still could not reconcile myself to this change and had to consciously remind me of the fact. When I got up to put new wood on the fire after a while the black woke. He rolled on his belly and sleepily watched a shower of new sparks rising when I poked the burning logs. He flattened his ears but remained where he was. In a hollow under the fireplace larger pieces of wood could be stored. When I pulled one out a mouse slipped through the gap and found itself cornered between the hearth and the wolf's outstretched forelegs. He and I both stared at the mouse in surprise for a moment, then the black reacted and snapped it up. He chewed twice and the mouse was gone, tail and all. I stared at him in dumbstruck surprise. He blinked, then stared back at me and licked his muzzle once.

"You…ate that!" I was angry at that incredibly stupid observation, but my mind was just running in little circles. Just a second ago I thought I had things straight, Raven, wolf, and the changewolf. I vividly remembered the wolf closing with the boar. We stared at each other another moment, then the black made a curious sound and rolled over, drumming his tail madly on the floor. Suddenly I knew that Raven would have roared with laughter, but the wolf of course had no way to show mirth. My brief surge of disgust and shock vanished, and I simply had to join him.

'There are more-' the wolf told me finally '-where that came from'

I flopped own into my chair again "Do leave them be for heaven's sake, at least while I _watch_!"

Chapter Notes:

The song at the beginning if "Beauty has come" by Timo Kotipelto, _Waiting for the Dawn_

Cursive lines in quotation marks are from _The Silmarillion _and _Morgoth's Ring _"Laws and Customs of the Eldar". I know the essay is supposed to have been written by a human meditating on eldarin customs rather than a codex of behaviour set down by the Eldar themselves, but for this story I do take the Laws&Customs literally.

11


	36. Chapter 36 Dunland

'**Dunland' **

TA 2908

Gildor's POV

Spring came slowly, cold and wet, wreathed it seemed into eternal fog. As we had agreed we prepared to hunt orcs, and we were both happy to leave the cottage after the winter. I was glad we had a shared purpose for the time being - we went as much to find out how we would get along as to hunt. But first of all we had to stop by at Imladris and fetch supplies to refurbish the caches at the cottage.

Raven crossed the river with me, but stayed well away from the valley, retreating into the forested lands near the Last Bridge. It was dreary country there, all brown and dark green, dead grass and heath which had not yet realized it was spring. It was strange thinking he would hide in those miserable hills instead of using the amenities of the valley, but there was nothing for it. I went in alone with our two horses and tried to evade questions without lying. Faire was there, and I went to see her first, relieved to meet her again. I was even more relieved when she insisted on going with us. I had carefully mentioned that possibility to Raven, but he had had no objection at all to four-legged company.

Feather was still in Imladris as well, but when he heard of our plans quickly got himself ready to travel. He would accompany us back to the cottage and stay there to await the arrival of a rhevain group that planned to come to Eregion this spring. So between Faire, Feather's own horse and our two original horses we left the valley a day later, loaded like a trading caravan. Raven must have watched the road, because we did not even have to halt and wait. He appeared very uncomfortable with the idea of travelling with Feather, but I think he soon found that his doubts had been groundless. I had not only sworn Feather to secrecy, he was also very respectful of Raven's shyness and did not ask awkward questions, limiting their conversation to immediate subjects. They got along quite well, as far as I could judge, and with the horses to carry the loads the journey back was short and pleasant.

From the cottage Raven, Faire and I turned southeast and roughly made for Dunland until we ended up somewhere between River Glanduin and the Methedras. Soon enough we found signs of orcs, but it was cold ashes and long-finished feasts. Raven knew the mountains here better than I, and also the orc-paths. We spent a number of silent days stalking along those tracks until we were sure they had been deserted for quite a while. Though the paths were narrow, they were comparatively smooth and Faire mostly had no difficulty keeping up with us. We had climbed some distance from the lowlands again, and spring in these mountains meant icy cold nights which left everything frost-rimed in the mornings well into May. Though we still were far below the tree-line it was _freezing _cold and dampness was everywhere. The clouds pressed up to the high peaks, and though an occasional beam of sun came through it was quickly quenched by renewed drizzle. Water dripped continually from the boughs of the scraggly pines we were currently trying to shelter beneath and everything we had was soaked through. Raven had estimated we would need some days' walk yet to the nearest cave that was large enough to accommodate Faire as well. And a fire was out of the question since we had seen fresher orc-traces this morning.

Raven solved the problem of steady wetness and cold elegantly, wearing only a loincloth which he dried by the fire each night, if there was a one. I had tried doing that but had to admit failure. Controlling my body that way was a continuously draining effort that required concentration and willpower while Raven did not have to waste a single thread of attention on doing that. I could not say where his still bony body took the energy to keep warm that way, but at least he did not suffer the chill of constantly wet clothes. Most of the time, especially in this weather, he was wolf anyway. The change took energy as well, but furred he never felt the cold and water pearled off his thick pelt. All around was silence, broken only by the steady patter of rain. Gloomily I watched a small rivulet of water threading its way along the ridged bark of the pine we camped beneath, half expecting the drops to turn into snowflakes. Though I had curled up beside Faire I was freezing under my blankets. This was a temporary arrangement for my sake, because Faire could hardly lie around here all night. At least our travelling had whittled down the uncertainty concerning physical contact between Raven and me. At the cottage, I had hardly ever touched him after we had found a way to mind-speak across short distances. Here, we had to share every bit of body-warmth so that the black slept always right beside or sprawled over me. Which meant I had to lie beside a well-fanged wolf who was as long as myself if Raven did not curl up beside me unfurred. The first few nights beside the wolf I hardly dared to move. I had known I was bound to find this strange, the shift between furred and unfurred, but it was entirely different to have the wolf around in the cottage than deep in the wilderness. Still, he warmed considerably better than one's body heat alone and did not object to serving as bed-rug. He also kept off some amount of rain.

I was used sleeping beside horses, I would get used to sleeping beside a wolf.

And sleep I did, because I was regularly tired to the bone. That was also the reason the black was scouting alone tonight. We did not only stalk orcs, which in itself was exhausting business, we had to provide for our meals as well. Faire's help allowed us larger packs than I would normally have taken, and we had a small sack of flour and grain, but those were meant to last well into early summer. So each day's walk did not consist of crossing distance alone, but foraging had to be done while walking. In spring, there were no berries left, no seeds ripening, no mushrooms, and in the mountains, the ground was rough and stony. Faire had more to do than we actually to keep herself fed.

_Travelling_ became a whole new concept when walking with Raven, as did _wilderness_. I had picked some things up with the rhevain and the Silvan Elves, but Raven brought up surprise after surprise now. He ensured that we had meat every day. If there was rich prey, he brought hares, rabbits, grouse, sometimes a mountain-hen or a marmot. More often he brought squirrels, dug up chipmunks or caught half-hibernating frogs. As wolf he generally hunted alone, but I always accompanied him on his unfurred excursions to learn where he dug up roots, bulbs and even a sort of spring mushroom I had not seen before. It was breeding season in the bird world so we climbed several trees each day to collect eggs. If we found greenery we usually took it back with us for Faire.

Now I also found out what had shaken him so much when first coming into the Eregion plains. I was aware of the land around me, yes, I could tell when danger was near, but I was no match for Raven's senses in that respect. As easily as he adjusted to the outside conditions he also kept a detailed, effortless net of awareness up. _Mak'a'ara _he called it in Ashi'kha, and it did not only tell him that something was near, but exactly what it was. If he decided to hunt deer, he could, if he wished, make out where he would find one. Nothing - _not even a mouse fart_ - seemed to escape him. The connection he had to the land seemed to run like invisible roots in all directions, how far depending on the size of area which Raven chose to keep in focus. There were boundaries, but how far these extended I had not yet found out.

At a rustling Faire jerked her head up and I reached for my knife. A moment later the black wolf materialized out of the shadows, and I realized the rustle had been there for our benefit. Ever since he had surmised I had an ever-present vigilance like he, scared me silly by popping up and almost got himself skewered Raven was careful of announcing his arrival, at least when he was furred.

The wolf pushed his head under my chin, a gesture I had learned lower ranking wolves bestowed on the pack leader. His breath, quick from running, tickled down my bare chest as I scratched his shoulders. I found this a strange twist in our relationship for technically Raven was leading in the wild. I relied on him as to where to go and when to go there. I knew he would react to whatever came up without thinking and correctly. He was teaching me now, not the other way round. The wild was his home, to a degree that went far beyond the scout's or the hunter's conception of living in the wild. But in all other matters, Raven left the control completely to me, acting with strict wolvish submission, avoiding any fight that might have arisen over such matters. That was incredibly uncomfortable sometimes, bordering on unnerving. It had not been so obvious while we lived at the cottage, but we were even more dependent on each other now. The difficulties I had foreseen were definitely there. Wolves did not know shame, but often I felt embarrassed when some silly argument was broken by Raven's abrupt submission, turning the quarrel into a matter of dominance.

In Raven's eyes, according to pack law, the relation had been established on our first meeting. I had proved the stronger, he had accepted his defeat, and refused to challenge that order. It was a merciless conception, and I could not see why he would chain himself to that.

I dug my hands into the wolf's ruff and made him raise his head. Raindrops glittered on the fine pelt of his muzzle. He looked faintly surprised, ears laid half back.

"Stop that now" I told him "I'm glad you're back, but don't fawn like that. You make me feel guilty"

Raven returned my gaze for a moment, the wolf flattening his ears completely, then twitching them forward again. I could not read his eyes, and if there was a meaning in the gesture I could not decipher it. Sometimes it was difficult to decide who I was facing, wolf alone, or Elf looking through a wolf's eyes.

Wolf looking through an elf's eyes was the most disturbing thing. Sometimes I expected Raven to react even moderately elven, and instead met either complete puzzlement or quite, as it seemed, unmerited reactions. Raven relied on the wolf whenever something new or unforeseen occurred that did not belong to the wilderness. And often he got even more confused since the wolf had no concepts for most of the unfurred world.

With a nudge the black told me to lie down again, abruptly and almost indiscernibly switching from wolf to Elf convention. I was on the lookout for those changes, and communication by gestures had become somewhat easier, but by no means complete. Faire got to her feet gingerly, stretched, and announced she was going to forage. The black shook out his pelt, spraying droplets around, and settled himself close beside me. Soon I felt considerably warmer and, for that matter, safer.

'You fear the wolf sometimes'

I glanced at the black, startled at the sudden sending, but the wolf had his head down on his forepaws and looked sideways into the darkness beyond our camp. Obviously Raven was not through with what I had just said to him.

'I rather sleep warm than in fear. Simple reasoning, wolf'

I turned over and tugged the black's head around so I could look into his eyes. I could feel the wolf's reluctance to hold my gaze, mixed with Raven's defiance.

"The wolf kind of overdoes it"

'Pack law knows no exceptions' Raven stated mercilessly.

"Yet you are looking at me right now. You lie beside me at night and don't react like a wolf when I startle you. You _think_ like an Elf. You _can _defy the wolf, even in his form. Why do you insist on this…this submission!"

'Would you have it otherwise?' Raven demanded 'You are the one insisting, insisting on seeing the wolf with an Elf's eyes'

"You contradict yourself, Raven-I-am-neither-wolf-nor-Elf. And you hide behind the wolf when you don't want to face me"

The wolf flattened his ears in frustration 'And if I do? Would you rather quarrel?'

"Yes. Better bickering than have you crawling all over the place!"

The black snorted and sat up, then shook his head so that his ears flapped 'I am following the wolf, Gildor. Maybe not perfectly and not permanently, but I have nothing else to hold on to when it comes to interaction. Let it be like this for the moment'

I sighed. The wolf lay down again and curled around me 'Go to sleep. I keep watch'

He did keep watch. So long, that when I woke it was broad daylight. Faire had not yet returned. The wolf sat a little apart and stared into trees. When he heard me stir he directed a sharp 'Hush. Listen' at me.

'I don't hear anything' I replied after a while.

'Yes. They are truly far away' He came back to sit beside me 'There were Orcs some time ago, some miles distant. The wolves followed them. They camp now. The wolves say so'

"And why the hell did you not wake me?" I pushed the furs away. At least the drizzle had subsided. The wolf flicked his ears 'Why should I? You wouldn't have gone after them for miles, would you?'

"No" I said after a moment "But they could have come upon _us"_

'Hardly' The black drew his lips back slightly.

"If they camp though…"

The wolf turned to look at me, suddenly expectant. I grinned "Then it could be worth a try"

Raven called the change without preamble and took one soggy fur to wrap around his waist. I supposed it was more for politeness' sake as the wet rag did little to warm. According to what I had gleaned from him so far the Ashi'kha completely relied on their ability to block out heat or cold. Clothes, as in 'neatly stitched garments of some sort', were for winter or when extra physical protection was needed. Garments would snuck on branches, leave telltale traces, and on the whole were considered more of a nuisance than an advantage. Also, the Ashi'kha always had to have the option of turning wolf and running without leaving some rag. After the years of wandering with his brother Raven knew enough of mortals and other Elves that he could adapt to their culture without immediately obvious strangeness. He found some of our behaviour exceedingly silly, but the wolf seemed to have quite a good notion of what these others would consider not only silly but outright horrible. And a good notion when it was better to adapt than to rebel.

"Eat first" Raven said, starting to work on a small fire. We stored a small amount of sticks under an oiled skin to have at least dry wood to start. Once the flames crackled, we could use damp wood as well, though it smoked. Our original tinder was gone, and Raven used some stinking dried mushroom to set the damp wood hissing and sputtering. He could produce a fire in almost impossible conditions. I was very uncomfortable with meddling in the life-force of things around me, but Raven did it without thinking about what he was doing.

"For a wolf you have a rather uncanny ability for calling fire" I murmured.

Raven shrugged "The wolf learns to adapt"

"Even to fire?"

Raven gave me a long glance, perhaps wondering if I was hinting at more than simple fire. Treelight perhaps. He fed small sticks to the flames until they burned merrily.

"Maybe" he said finally "Yes. Besides, you don't like raw meat, do you?" he stuck the plucked body of some bird on a stick and positioned it over the flames "Breakfast for you"

I eyed the bird dubiously "Where's that from? I thought you weren't away tonight"

Raven waved a hand at the thicket behind our campsite. "From there. And I wasn't away. Just quicker than the featherhead. Spares you an early hunt"

I shifted nearer to the fire and turned the bird over as it browned slowly "Definitely. Aren't you eating anything?"

"I have"

"Oh. I'd better not ask what"

Raven grinned "Mice aren't so bad. I will convince you that even mice can be dressed and grilled for a decent supper"

"Try your luck, wolf. You know, whatever this bird was, it looks very, very good in that light"

When I got ready to stalk orcs Faire joined us, and so for the second time I found myself riding hard behind the wolf running in front. Only this time I had no plough-horse and rode on Faire. And when we crossed through forest, she would not forget to take my head or knees into account. Raven had intended to draw the sentinels out into the dark so I could shoot them, but the orcs had broken camp before we arrived. It was a small group, only five, and that they were out here in the hills was strange.

'Outcasts' the wolf spat when he returned from his quick foray 'There was trouble and they ran. Let us go'

I had strapped his sword to Faire's saddle, but he insisted on staying wolf. I wondered briefly how he knew what had happened to the orcs, but forgot about it. The orcs were travelling furtively, creeping through the thin underbrush of the mountains. We followed, and when they realized it, they ran. The chase went downhill through pine-forest for a short while. Before I could stop him, the black had overtaken and circled the orcs. He charged right into the group in what I considered suicidal frenzy. The orcs scattered and turned. The wolf killed one, Faire bowled over two before I slipped off her back and attacked on the ground. The last went down under the wolf, squealing. That was easy victory. We checked the slain and knew we had to account that to their miserable state. Whatever had turned them into outcasts had played rough with them first, which would also explain their flight.

Had they fled further, Raven assured me grimly, he would have chased them wolf way, taking the last in line, cutting single orcs off. There was a time when even a wiry and frightened orc could run no longer and would turn at bay. I cleaned my sword carefully and dragged the skinny carcasses into a makeshift heap.

"You talk of _fleeing_ orcs"

'Run they do' The black watched me beadily as I remounted and looked down on him 'You'll see. Change under their nose, and even orcs squeal'

That was true. We returned to our camp and from there travelled further south along the mountains. Several times we attacked smaller groups of orcs, but none was as easy to defeat as our first had been. The ones we found now were safely ensconced in their mountain-retreats, and occasionally escaped us in the wilderness of sharp rocks and boulders. Raven compromised in so far as to let those instances pass since Faire could hardly run across gravel-fields. Alone he would have followed every track, every orc, and once he had one singled out he would not let it go. I thought I should be used to fighting with four-legged partners, but where Faire tended to obey me or _think _in terms of _safety_, my or her own,the wolf literally did not think. And Raven made no effort to change that. With the single-mindedness of a hunting predator he would run miles and miles, regardless if it was a group or a lone scout. Once he narrowly escaped getting stuck full of arrows when his prey led him right into a camp full of more Orcs.

I started to get serious reservations about Raven's way of fighting. When he did not have a chance to kill quickly and out of ambush, or when he got cornered he went for hand-to-hand combat without hesitation, forgetting everything but the kill. He had an unsettling way of switching from wolf to Elf in seconds. That might definitely be an advantage in fighting because as he had said it scared the hell out of most Orcs, but for every change Raven had to let go of whatever weapon he had at the moment and estimate how to attack with teeth alone when he did so. He had to have the blade back the moment he was Elf again and often he found another Orc between himself and his sword. Surprise did not necessarily keep an Orc from striking. I always felt cold sweat prick me when he pulled a trick like that. Within a few moons he caught more severe blows than I had suffered within years of stalking orcs. Though his wounds healed fast and he seldom retained a scar the price he paid for a few dead Orcs seemed decidedly too high for me sometimes.

By the time spring oozed over into summer we were near the coast, in the lowlands. It had seemed wise to leave the mountains for a while. We had wrought havoc among the smaller orc-groups there, and chances were they would be better prepared soon, and maybe strike against us. We did not feel like making a moving target of ourselves. These lowlands, too, were wide meadows, but the forests were lush and green, their floors covered with thick underbrush. In Eregion, the wooded patches usually consisted of oak and beech with sparse undergrowth, excepting of course the ever-present hollies. This land shared the tendency to fog, but in summer it was a warm and stuffy dampness, not the cold affair it was in Eregion. After long weeks in the mountains, we were all glad to stay here for a while, even Raven. The numerous deer and elk made up for the lack of orc-prey. Also, we hunted them together and were successful enough to smoke extra meat for storing. We vaguely planned to spend the winter in the shelter of a cave. I was very divided as to that, feeling incomprehensibly reminded of the time I had fled with Silverleaf's group from the crumbling ruin of Beleriand. But the alternative was separating from Raven who still refused to go into the valley. Nothing seemed worth to sacrifice our surprisingly good companionship for that, and as I watched our extra supplies grow my doubts for the winter narrowed to finding a suitable cave that would not be invaded by orcs and provide shelter for Faire. The summer in the coastal lands was pleasant except for the frequent, heavy rains. We had no solid shelter here except a large hollow below two giant fallen trees. That, too, recalled the time of the Great Battle uncomfortably. I kept my mind on the present with a vengeance, and we worked three days on stuffing the gap between the trunks that formed our roof with mud and twigs, sealing one side against the wind with woven branches which we covered with rawhides. This near invisible hut was a combination of rhevain and Ashi'kha methods and served us well except when a particularly heavy rain made the floor swim. After the first time that happened we took precaution by layering the floor with thin tree-trunks, whose underside we notched to allow the water to flow through.

Now that we were storing supplies in our construction I had to swallow my pride and caution as to manipulating natural energies. Raven and I meshed our skills and methods to create seals that would actively keep unwanted guests from invading our shelter when we were not there. While in the mountains we had always been busy gathering firewood, hunting or scouting we had more time on our hands now. We could laze about. Though she carefully kept to the cover of the forest by day, Faire harvested fresh grass and leaves without much trouble. There were humans in these lands, and we were careful not to cross their paths. They seldom or never came here to stay, and rather crossed in haste through the wild areas where we stayed.

I used a warm, hazy morning to ride Faire again. She picked her way slowly through the dense forest, foraging as she walked. We neared the edge of the trees and the beginning of a wide stretch of meadow when she suddenly jerked her head up and stopped abruptly. Startled, I tightened my grip on her mane and reached for my knife, wondering which danger we could have overlooked. Fairë's nostrils flared and she moved sideways a few steps. Towards danger, not away from it, and I fixed my attention on the side of the overgrown deer-path.

'Sorry' Raven's mind-voice told me a second later 'Tell her it's only me before she knocks my brains out'

"Show yourself" I demanded, squinting into the thick undergrowth "or I may doubt there _are_ any brains to knock about"

Fairë flicked one white ear forward and relaxed. She had no liking for predators of any kind, but she got along remarkably well with the changewolf. The black left his cover a few feet ahead of us. I still felt irritated. He had soundly interrupted a very quiet, very lazy morning.

"Will you stop popping up like that?"

'Had I _meant_ to pop upI could promise you I would _stop_ doing it'

Fairë returned to the easy pace she had held before our stop and the wolf fell into step beside us. He was forced into a swift trot to keep up with us, and the glossy fur gleamed when we crossed patches of sunlight. Something was going on between Faire and the black. Her ears twitched slightly as they always did when she was mind-speaking. It had vaguely astonished me how easily she included Raven into her mind-speaking range. But then, the two basically used the same level – she would not be as limited to reach him as she was with other elves. When we came out of the trees the wolf looked up at me expectantly 'Run with me' he invited 'Fairë is fast enough to outpace me she says, so let's try'

I nodded and leaned forward over her neck as she shifted from a fast trot into gallop. It was long that I had ridden Fairë anywhere for pleasure or that she had run for the joy of it. Her hooves thundered on the hard ground and I could feel her powerful muscles bunching beneath me as Fairë stretched out into top speed. The wind almost took my breath away.

The black's fur was blowing back in the wind of our speed. It was a quite exquisite sensation to be able to keep pace with him in a flat-out run that did not cross breakneck ridges in the mountains. We had come far into the open and Fairë turned our course in a wide arc back to the forest, slowing a little before heading in a straight line back towards the trees.

At the edge a large dead tree lay across the invisible line we were running. It had lain there long, and naked and snapped off branches stuck up into the air where its crown had been. Fairë's ears pricked forward and I braced myself. She leaped the tree, branches and all, at the highest point, jarring my teeth as she landed on the other side. Looking back over my shoulder I saw the black swerve sharply, almost going head over heels. He cleared the fallen tree where the trunk was low and smooth, still having to pull his legs tight under his body to avoid grazing the bark. Fairë slowed and fell into a walk before stopping, blowing heavily. Her coat was slick with sweat. Out of breath myself, I slipped from her back and leant against her shoulder. The black flopped onto the ground beside us, breathing hard, his tongue lolling out as he panted for air.

'That was marvellous' he stated with satisfaction, licking his lips and giving us a wolvish stare 'That was mean, lady horse'

Fairë whickered delicately and raised one fore hoof 'won' she declared 'wolves run fast, but don't jump high'

'Your horse is mocking me'

"You'll get over it"

I sat down beside the wolf and Fairë went for a small brook that ran at some distance, further into the forest. I watched the pink wolf tongue as the black still panted for air.

"Does that really work for cooling you down, or is it just…wolf way and you?"

The black licked his lips and snapped his mouth shut a little self-consciously. 'It works for me as for any other wolf'

Fairë returned sopping wet with a glint in her dark eyes.

"Yik" I scrambled out of her reach as she ambled up and made to nudge me with her head, water dripping from her muzzle "What is that about, mad horse? Do you think I was going to _walk _home?"

'Hungry' Fairë stated amusedly 'While I eat, I dry. _Then_ you ride'

"Well?" I asked the wolf "Are _you_ going to have a bath as well?"

The black got up and stretched 'Now that you mention it – good idea. Come. Leave the lady to her grass'

"Forget it" I said "I am not going to wet a single toe"

Nevertheless I followed the wolf down to the brook. The water collected in a deeper pool in one of the bends and the black splashed his way through an extensive bath. I would have supposed that wolves avoided getting their head under water, but either that was a wrong assumption or the changewolves were an exception. Not one dry hair remained.

He shook himself afterwards and settled in a patch of sun to dry, rolling over after a time to dry every part of his thick fur. I stretched out on the soft forest floor and listened to Faire cropping and chewing the long grass. She moved around us in slowly growing circles. Forest birds twittered all around in the canopy, and beneath the trees the air now was heavy and still. It felt like thunder was brewing, though far away.

'Look. Dead wolf' Fairё observed after a long while. Sleepily I opened one eye and watched the black lying beside me. He had obviously just woken and rolled over, now lying on his back, his front legs folded onto his chest and his back legs splayed, nose and tail curving towards each other on the side of his body facing me. Fairё shook her head in amusement, up and down.

'Want to see wolf-coming-alive-very-fast?' she asked with mischief dripping from every mental syllable.

'Leave him be, horse' I gave her a long look 'There is a gadfly right on your rump'

She whirled, whipping her tail around wish a sharp swish and stomping one of her back legs. Then she glared at me with one dark horse eye.

'Not' She snarled 'You _walk_ home'

I laughed 'Mercy. Besides, you owe him one for that tree. Someone has to make you pay, after all'

Fairё snorted and snatched a mouthful of grass in demonstrative irritation 'You better sleep. When you sleep, you not bother me'

"Fair enough"

The day wore on, but neither of us felt like getting busy. Towards late afternoon the air seemed to have acquired a misty substance, and the smell of forest under a hot sun lay thickly on the land. I glanced at the wolf who flopped over on his side and stretched leisurely before drifting off to slumber again. I would have given a small fortune for that ability right now, but after a while I too fell asleep.

Raven's POV

I woke slowly, sensing more than hearing thunder that was leagues away. The sun still slanted through the leaves but had moved on from the patch I had picked out earlier. I stretched, glad to find myself in the wolf's body. I was hungry. There were many birds, but much too high up in the branches. Small songbirds. A mouthful of feathers, little worth the bite of meat inside. I yawned.

'Well, bed-rug?' Gildor asked 'Slept well?'

I rolled over to face him 'Yes-'

'Hungry?'

'Yes-'

'Thought so. But we'll have to go back to our shelter for a decent meal' He pulled a small bag from his belt 'Dried fruit?'

'Oh, delicious' I snorted sarcastically, then added a hasty 'But yes'

"Ha! Catch" He had more intended the toss as a teasing, but the wolf allowed me a proper reaction. I surged up from the grass and half leaping half rearing caught the fruit between my teeth. I chewed and bared my fangs briefly in the lupine equivalent of a grin.

'Show-off' Fairё commented.

Gildor grinned "Want some too?"

She wrinkled her nostrils in disgust and snorted, lowering her head to the grass.

'That leaves more for me'

"Earn it"

He continued the play piece by piece until the bag was empty. Most had ended up in my fangs. Thunder now rumbled softly in the distance.

"Think we're going to get into a storm?"

He asked that slowly, and involuntarily told me he would have asked something entirely different rather. I raised my muzzle into a non-existent wind 'No. - You are wondering. What?'

Gildor refastened the bag at his belt 'Raven…why are you staying here and do not go back to your people?'

I flattened my ears in puzzlement 'I…because I am…with you' I said finally.

'And…that is it? You are…I think I never realized just how much you are, well, a wolf. I mean, that sounds silly. But you are not just a…a change-beast, it sometimes feels like you are…'

Ah. I had guessed _khai'toh_ would ask that one time or other 'Wholly a beast?' I asked 'I am. Sometimes. And sometimes not'

I lay down slowly, resting my head on my forelegs 'Why does that bother you so much?'

"_That_ does not bother me…so much"

I glanced at him quickly. The wolf could easily tell me what this was about. But unfurred had considerable problems finding an answer. Any honest one I might give would also give my own feelings away 'You…you wonder what I am to you' I said finally 'What I could be to you. And what you think I should be'

He made no answer, only looked at me. I did not understand _vach'khan tohr_. I feared them. I feared him. Not because of his greater power, but because of myself. The wolf would follow the rightful leader. But leader in this case was friend, and he did not know, could not really know, pack-law. I would follow him as leader, but I also was his friend. Faire was definitely a horse, no mistaking there. But what could he make of me? Could he see _me_ as his friend? I could say little else with certainty, except that his thoughts were probably running along the same lines.

'My people think of all other creatures as peoples in their own right' I said after a while 'Your kind does so as well. But you also distinguish between _elf_ and _beast_ and _plant_. The Ashi'kha only know _beast_ and the _other_ in that respect. Growing things are _other_. I…never thought of myself as _elf_ before I was old enough to understand what my father said about you - about his old people. How they conceived of themselves. I did not see myself as different from what to your people is _beast_. I still do not. Not really. Am I anywhere near the mark?'

Gildor kept avoiding my eyes 'Yes. Also. Very near. Though I started out wondering that if…Well, you are very much different when you are wolf. Like…it is easier for you to…_live_ then. Why then do you stay here, stay…unfurred instead of going back to your people and – well, live without the trouble you seem to have here?'

I flattened my ears involuntarily 'Oh. I – I cannot go back. No. Of course I could. If I wanted that is. But…I don't want to. I cannot go back without Niy'ashi. We left the clan together. It is not that I would not be allowed to return – but...Look, I could have gone back right after his death. Maybe I should have. Maybe Onakir would have known something to do. But I did not, and now I do not feel I really do belong there anymore. Not for going back to live there permanently again. Not yet'

But when else? I could not say. The past weeks had unmercifully reminded me of the clan, of Niy'ashi, of the way we had always travelled. Niy'ashi and I had always been equals, but K'ashi had been both our leader. I missed him. The lack of his advice, his guidance, seemed very obvious right now. K'ashi would have known what I should have done, and what I should expect. He knew what _vach'khan tohr_ meant, he knew how to deal with them. When he had met Hurondil their positions had been reversed, of course. Hurondil had followed him, adjusted to wolf clan – but here I was, and I had to find a way to adjust to _vach'khan tohr_. Every moment posed a new obstacle we had to deal with, and I needed the wolf to do anything at all. Only when I followed him could I find a way to interact with Gildor. But he could not know or understand the wolf.

"Would you…do you want to go back?"

There was more to his question than he told me. I hesitated.

'Yes' I said slowly 'To the clan, I would wish to return. But it is all…changed now, without Niy'ashi. My place is…gone. For me, not because the clan would say so'

Gildor nodded slightly but said nothing.

'There are some wolves in a pack that never once hunt in their lives' I said after a while, not knowing why I laid myself open to attack that way 'Some wolves won't ever be pack leader and will never fight for that position. Not even for the right to mate that comes with that. Do you know what I mean?'

"No"

'I am…no longer whole without Niy'ashi. I am not made to…stand on my own. I cannot. I need someone. Always. There it is. I…need you. That is why I stay' I unconsciously flattened myself to the ground as Gildor opened his mouth. But he seemed too startled to find a reply. 'The wolf gives me some distance or I would never have dared to say that' I added 'Revealing secrets is dangerous'

"Ah yes" he said finally "You and your secrets"

'You have secrets of your own' I objected carefully.

"Yes"

I returned his gaze this time.

"So we are even, are we?" he smiled wryly "Look, demon-hound, whatever you are, I can keep secrets without using them against you, right?"

'I…think so' I got up 'So can I'

He gave me a long look "Good to know"

I shook my fur, as much to settle it as to cover my uncertainty 'Let us go home. Iam still hungry'

Chapter Notes:

Mind-speech: I assume the Elves can talk to their horses either in words or in mind-speech, whereas, of course, the horse would answer in mind-speech by transmitting _images _(as the wolf does when _only _the wolf is talking). I do _not_ intend to imply _anything_ like low intelligence when Faire's lines are not grammatically "sophisticated" sentences.

That very few wolves actually become pack-leader is self-understood; that some wolves never hunt is an assumption made also in one of these books: Jim Brandenburg's "_White Wolf – Living with an arctic legend_" or Barry Lopez's "_Of Wolves and Men_". I can't find out which at the moment.

12


	37. Chapter 37 Why the Wind howls

**Why the Wind howls**

TA 2909

Raven's POV

Dunland drew me without mercy. I did not want to go back, but I had to. There was no way around that. Things were not finished, not until the Hawk Dance. And not for me, either

I knew Gildor found the region little enticing, with harsh weather and a rough countryside. It was only sparsely settled, but we had to be vigilant constantly. The last time we had been here it had been spring as well, a cold and wet spring. Now it was early summer, and once more the weather was still cool and wet. I had taken a different approach to the land this time, travelling on an old, half-perished track along the mountain-side. I knew this one well. We came to a faded crossing, where the rock walls were scratched and smeared with several old marks Orcs sometimes used. The path divided, one track going downhill and leading into the lower lands, the other continuing with a slight rise and eventually curving into the mountains.

We had had built a shelter in the lowlands last time, but now I chose the way into the mountains without hesitation. Soon we reached a wide rocky valley, full of cracks and small rivers, interspersed with thickly wooded pockets. Before entering it I went on a full circuit. Gildor waited on a ledge overlooking a small pond. He felt considerably better without the pouring rain and as a consequence was much more relaxed about my wolfish fancies now that his possessions were kept dry and the nights not spent in unceasing wetness. This time, though Faire had not come with us, we had even taken oiled skins and a small shelter with us. That meant lugging heavier packs about, so I had to compromise in being wolf much less often than before, carrying my share of the luggage. But that couldn't be changed, and at least we slept dry. And the wolf was receptive to comforts as well.

A sharp wind blew and thick greyish white clouds raced across the sky when I returned. I settled myself beside Gildor, fixing a stare on the little fish below. Too fast now, too small for the time it took to hunt them. Abruptly, I looked away from the fish and into the slope behind the pool, unmoving for a long while. I was glad having come here as wolf first. Memories had less impact on him.

'We could go in now' I said finally, rising and carefully stepping down the rocks to scale the pool's edge. The still water reflected the surrounding rocks and bushes perfectly. The sky was a hazy greyish colour, like another boundary below the surface of the pond. _Shech'khai yelo_. The fish darted away when I brushed the water with my muzzle. The world beyond shattered, like they said the shadow shattered when the Hawk flew through it.

Along a thin trail we crossed a patch of young birches. As I had expected we found a comfortable cave here. It was located under an overhanging cliff, stretching back into the rock. The floor was smooth and covered in dry sand. Beside the entrance water trickled down the rocks and flowed into a small channel. It had been empty for a long time. It had not been flooded for some time either. As the snow was mostly gone from the heights I guessed we needed not fear that would happen again before the autumn rains began.

I rounded the space once, hiding behind the calm acceptance of the wolf. In the smooth sand, tracks were only shallow puddles. For a moment, I had to close my eyes. It seemed a very ironic twist this, to remember it now. But Fingal's song belonged to our homeland, our summer-land. The sand of the Evermoving's shores was firm and preserved the tracks of walkers for a long while. Until the next wave.

I would have kept wandering through summer once more, but I knew how little Gildor relished the idea now. We had done that the first time in Dunland, and this time I owed him at least the little comfort a cave like this could offer. I had long debated with myself which cave to choose, and this one was the largest and most comfortable.

This was also the one with the most unpleasant memories.

Not far from here was a small clearing. _The_ small clearing in which Orcs had surrounded me and my brother many moons ago. I could not stay here now without going to that place. I had come here for just that purpose. I just could not decide if I wanted to do it later or get it over with. I lay down and watched Gildor make himself at home. There was some firewood still stored in the lower part of the cave. Nothing else. The wind picked up and made the bushes outside rush, stirring the sand at the entrance.

'Will you go hunting?' Gildor asked me as he unwrapped a packet of dried berries, giving them an unenthusiastic look.

'Mice?' I could not resist.

"Definitely not!"

I left the cave, leaping up the rocks at the side of the cave. Better hunt than fret. I left the valley itself for this. No sense hunting in the vicinity when I not yet had to. At dusk I came back with two rabbits. I had tried the fish on the way, but they were quick and so small. I did not have the patience nor the time for endlessly stalking then.

The meat sizzled over the flames. I watched it idly, trying to decide if I liked the raw version better. I had taken my rabbit outside again to eat it wolf-fashion, and I knew for all tolerance Gildor did not really relish watching the wolf eat. I could not recall if I had ever said that was the way Ashi'kha usually ate their meat. Probably Gildor had figured that out already, though. He knew we had not had fire before father came.

My thoughts kept returning to a night some time ago. A dark night. New moon. A good time for stealthy attacks. New moon. Black moon. The time when the Wolf did not look here, at his world. With a jolt, I realized it was new moon this night.

Cursed circumstances.

Far away from the Now of the wolf I remembered the slow song in the ancient tongue of my people, so old that not even Nightchaser could translate the words completely any longer. Maybe it had never been words, but only sounds. A lament, the Calaquendi would call it. For the Ashi'kha it had the same name as the emotion. Mourning.

Wolves mourned, too. Wordless. Maybe there had once been a language we had shared, Ashi'kha and wolves. That ancient, wordless song was always joined by the furred ones when they were near.

But then, there were the other songs. Those with words. Wolves did not mourn that way.

Again, I felt the need to hide behind the wolf. We diverged again, and the feeling was wrenching.

If there was a curse on my people, it had nothing to do with shadows and darkness, it was the eternal conflict between the wolf now and the elf immortality.

_Wolves and Ashi'kha were made of shadow. _We were one. So many Ashi'kha had died before, side by side with the wolves. _The world was made of shadow._

Time stretching ahead was not a major concern to us, only the next day, the next season. That was what counted. And still we at odds sometimes, furred and unfurred.

Wolves did not mourn that way.

Sensing my reluctance to change or even speak Gildor dozed beside the fire, one hand on my back, scratching. It was pleasant enough to sleep as well, but neither I nor the wolf found rest.

Shin'a'sha. Shadow of lightning.

_The world was made of shadow, and shadow was before the world was. The new world lies beyond the shadow, and when you know what the Hawk does, you can walk the shadow paths and see that world. You can follow the Hawk, and he can lead you. _

Maybe that was the meaning of the song, maybe it was not. The words were exchangeable in the old tongue. In the end, they were worthless, too. Words were like traces. They vanished, some sooner, some later, but they always were only a trace, an echo of the speaker, the moment. Never real, never alive.

Thunder path. Wind walker. To die is to walk the Wind, to go with Hawk who is the Wind. With Wind, who is the Hawk.

Never mind. It was all the same, in the end.

The end.

Those who walked that path never returned, whether in shadow or with the wind. The Hawk flew them there, but never back.

New moon.

Gildor's POV

The black left the cave some time after dusk, brushing his muzzle against my cheek. I let the wolf go, knowing he would return some time at night. Raven never left that way when he sensed Orcs. Even alone, it was save enough for me to sleep.

I woke from the rushing of wind. Past midnight. It was cold again, and stormy. No rain.

The wolf was still gone and the fire had died.

As usual, I let a tendril of thought reach for Raven's mind.

_I am awake, where are you_

The exchange had become so unconscious it felt like a thunderclap when I realized Raven had blocked me out. Completely.

He no longer did so as wolf even when he was hunting. For my benefit dimmed our connection down then, but he was not stalking anything now, I could tell. Though I felt the wolf's single-minded intention and elation of hunting disturbing I was always able – or allowed- to catch at least some echo of my companion to know things were alright.

I debated with myself for a while. I had the feeling Raven simply wished to be left alone and was very much inclined to respect that. But I couldn't help worrying. It was just that Raven never blocked our connection completely.

The wind took up. No rain still, but the smell of it. Over the wind, I heard a wolf howl far away. It was not the black. Though I had not yet managed to tell even a little of what the wolves were communicating in their howls, I knew at least that particular voice. In the next lull of the wind the howl was answered. That was the black. It was a long drawn sound, almost like a wail. The savage grief in the sound almost made my hair stand on end. This was not the melancholic sound of all wolf speech, but the sensation came through the bond I shared with the Raven. Beyond the shielding. Or rather, where shields were no longer possible, not after _fea-raika._

This was unacceptable. I buckled my own sword on, and then strapped Raven's to my back as well. Raven would not be pleased if I left it in the cave. He was not terribly touchy of others handling his weapon, but it was unspoken law anyway that no sword – any sword – wouldbe left anywhere.

From the outside, the slight bend in the cave hid the light completely from casual glances – no need to douse the fire. I made my way carefully into the wind-swept forest. Raven had shielded alright, but now that I had sensed the slip I knew where to look to locate a trace of him. I followed the telltale echo for a long weary trip, having to rely completely on tracking with my mind. Occasionally the clouds where torn apart, and starlight filtered through. Still, I found enough reasons to curse under my breath. Pits, huge thickets full of thorns, fallen tree limbs, lay right across my path everywhere. And Raven had left no visible trail, it was very dark, and the storm made the brushes and trees hiss and roar.

Everything had remained silent after the first exchange of howls. At least I would not be in danger of running into a whole pack meeting up with the black. It was alright travelling with the changewolf now, but quite unsettling to face true wolves, without the Elven reason and awareness behind their piercing yellow stares. Up to now, I had only encountered the wild wolves Raven had called back in Eregion, and those had mercifully only sniffed at me from an arm's length away. The others – well, their looks had been enough.

I had expected to find the wolf, and sent a tendril of awareness ahead of me when I could tell I was drawing near to Raven. The wolf's reactions when he was ambushed or surprised were deadly. Attack and approach were not always kept apart. Also, I had seen several Orcs go down with a pair of fangs in their throats before they knew what hit them. Raven snapped completely aware of me very late, only when I came out of the trees into a clearing full of high grasses. He was not wolf, and jumped to his feet with a start that gave me a mental echo of the jolt. He transferred a small knife to his right hand, ready to attack, but then relaxed visibly and lowered the weapon.

A blast of wind hit the clearing from above and sent both our hair flying. With an impatient motion Raven swept it out of his eyes. He turned around and dropped to his knees again.

I advanced quietly, walking around Raven to kneel opposite of him, at the edge of a small spot of bare earth that Raven had obviously scraped clear of grass. Only this close I could see that his face was tear-streaked. The strange light of the storm gave him an eerie look.

Things fell into place. The valley. The clearing. Raven had said little, but shared memory provided glimpses of a landscape that fit this one exactly.

"I've heard the wolf" I said softly after a moment.

Raven looked up slowly. "The wolf is not here at the moment"

"No" I reached out to touch Raven's cheek "Wolves do not mourn"

Raven lowered his eyes "I did not call"

"No"

A long silence. Very far away there was thunder. For a moment the storm was utterly still. Raven looked up at the sky "My people" he said, so softly that I had to strain to hear him, "call this _shin'a'sha_. Thunder road. They say thunder was the shadow of lightning. Shadow path"

"Would you still wish to take that road?"

"Yes" Almost a hiss. "And no"

I brushed across the bare spot of soil "Why?"

Raven drew a ragged breath but did not answer "Here" He held out the knife. It was steel, not of elven make, and rusty. It must have lain around somewhere outside, I guessed. The leather-binding on the hilt was half rotted. Raven would have cleaned and sharpened it tonight. His hand was shaking and he clutched the hilt so hard the muscles on his arm stood out.

"Do you remember…the ritual…of _shin'a'sha_?"

After a moment, I became aware that Raven had spoken in Ashi'kha, yet the re-opened connection was transmitting the meaning of the weird sounds to me. It was a binding question. If I took the knife now I accepted whatever that ritual included. I thought hard for a moment, digging through the memories I had shared with Raven. I couldn't come up with the exact image but then reached out anyway, closing my fingers on the ragged blade. Raven released his death grip on the hilt.

"You are not binding yourself or me to anything" he whispered in Quenya after a moment when I did not move. "Turn it around…_Shina' a'sha_ is a ritual of mourning and revenge, not to kill the mourner"

"Has revenge made it easier?" I asked after a moment.

"No. But that doesn't matter. Here"

He held out his arm and traced a line from elbow to wrist on the inside of his arm. I swallowed an objection and my unwillingness. Constant fighting and killing might diminish what healing gift I had, but ritual or not, this meant was cutting the living flesh of a friend. _I am a healer. Not much of it, but still –_ _I am Elda enough still to abhor the idea of marring one's own hröa. If you keep picking up the sword you can't escape scars, but to wilfully produce them…Damn it, he's Dark Elven. And I should well know they have quite a different view of their bodies. They even tattoo themselves._ Shedding blood for a dead person was silly. _Probably not. Not for someone whose ancestors had died in the starlit dark of Cuivienen. And not for me either. _

I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I remembered _shin'a' sha_ now.

"I can do it myself" Raven pointed out tightly when I did not move. "At the moment, your hand is just steadier than mine"

Maybe I did not understand the ritual, but at least the impulse. Determinedly, I took Raven's wrist and quickly drew the knife down the length of his forearm. I only realized he had not shielded when he flinched with the pain. He held out his other arm silently. I bit my lip and repeated the motion

"Hold on" Raven whispered through clenched teeth. He was speaking in Ashi'kha without noticing it, but I caught the meaning just as well. Instinctively I closed my eyes, concentrating on our connection.

_Shed blood for those whose own blood has been shed._

_The shadow road can only be reached through blood._

_Blood is memory._

The words were Ashi'kha, blending several meanings in different codes, yet resolving themselves into a coherent, one-sided sentence. When Raven lowered his shields I completed the connection, sharing into the grief of loss. Through scattered, almost incoherent flashes of memory, down, even beyond the last shields Raven kept around his soul. Somewhere I was still aware of the storm, and that raindrops spattered to the ground. Raven's blood dripped hot over my hands. Further down until even the shared pain became almost unendurable. He was going back where I dragged him from. Why the hell was he doing that to himself, I wondered. Before we touched on the void, the raw place where Fingal's presence should have been, Raven stopped with an effort of will that jolted me right through. The force of his emotion washed over me like a wave. For the first time, and hopefully for the last, I exactly felt what the loss of a soulmate meant.

I had shielded Raven then, yes, but I had kept my full awareness back when I had touched on the void to do so. Now, Raven did not even let me come that close, and even shared it was a thousand times worse than what I had felt in the cave before.

Raven's – no, the wolf's mind - nudged me back, and I realized that with _shin'a'sha_ Raven had deliberately allowed himself to call up and feel the full impact of loss. The memories shared directly through Raven's mind were unfiltered, overlaid with the wolf's perceptions and emotions in an unsettling way. No explanation, no reason, just utter strangeness.

I could not say how much time had passed.

- Hot blood on my hands.

- Grief that was not my own.

I stirred, raised my head. Slowly, I became aware of my own body again. The bare earth spot was soaked in blood. Rain lashed down on us now, washing the blood away from Raven's arms and leaving only the raw cuts.

Raven did not break our connection, but retreated a little. Some time later he slowly straightened from his cower, shaking. Let me go, he mouthed silently. I obeyed. Raven drew back further. Closing his eyes he planted his hands flat on the ground on both sides of the spot. From somewhere he took the strength to reach out – someplace. I felt a thin, sucking flow of power around me. Ward-building energy. Raven called that power from the living things around us, pulled it into himself. Still linked with him I could sense him twisting that power around, making it his own. Something I knew I would not dare to. It warped simple wards into a kind of temporary but half-sentient…thing. Energy. Whatever. The power of the earth itself, of Arda Marred, under the shadow – would it not taint to make that one's own?

I could feel Raven once again calling up the agony of losing his brother, but this time he twisted it into anger, and then hate.

'_Anger is power. So is hate._

'_Hate can consume you._

'_Then it will. _

Raven broke the sublime exchange. With a scream he threw his head back and tightened his hands into fist. He slammed them to the ground, releasing the power he had built up and channelling it into one tiny spot of soil.

Shaken and drained I stared as a tiny flame, barely an inch in height and flickering blue, erupted from the fringe of the spot and travelled to its centre in a ring, then went out.

The circle was left bare and blackened.

Thunder rolled, loudly this time.

I shivered. After a moment I stirred - and found myself hesitating to touch the shaking Dark Elf. When I did, Raven showed no reaction. He was crying but made no sound. At a loss, I pulled him into my arms and held him close. The wind drove the icy rain into the clearing. I was drenched right through and the sword harness bit into my side. A flash of lightning followed by a deafening roar of thunder made us both jump.

"Come" I pulled Raven to his feet, casting a last glance at the bare spot, now soaked with rain, and started to make for the cave. Raven straightened, taking most of his weight from my shoulder. A flash of lightning turned his haggard face into a sharp edged relief.

Not even Eöl had held that kind of power, I thought. Or had dared to take that power. And the Dark Elf had had quite a lot of that, too. I had been there, when they had brought Eöl into the city.

Something else nagged at me uncomfortably. When Raven had directed the blow at me moons ago it had _not_ been a one time feat, entirely ascribable to his state crazed by pain. He probably _could_ do it again if he wanted.

_Does he ever _think_ about that? _

We reached the cave in half the time I had taken to find Raven. The fire had not died completely and I staked it up into a blaze again. Raven curled up beside it, staring unseeing into the flames for a while. He didn't protest when I took some strips of linen and wrapped his forearms with them, covering the cuts tightly. I took off the swords and peeled off my wet clothing, spreading it near the fire to dry. I was too tired to dry my hair and shook up the sleeping furs. Raven did not move.

"Come on" I tugged at Raven's shoulder. After a moment, he responded to the touch and moved away from the fire. I wrapped the fur around us both and shifted into a comfortable position for sleep. I found no rest for a long time. The storm outside did not abate. The gale rushed in the trees and sometimes howled among the rocks with a whistling sound. At least the rain ceased after a while. From Raven's breathing rhythm I could tell he did not sleep either, but he lay quiet and retreated into himself. It was an uncanny thing the way he did that. Had he closed his shields his presence would have simply vanished from my awareness. Raven sometimes did that when he was stalking Orcs, and it had the feeling he wrapped absolute silence around himself. I forced myself to relax, and finally fell asleep.

When I woke next the fire was only glowing ashes. Wind howled outside still, but a faint grey light filtered around the bend in the cave. Raven had curled into his customary ball, a position that made my back ache just from looking. How anyone could truly sleep like that I definitely failed to see. And sleep Raven did, like mortals, unable to seek any kind of controlled dream paths. If he did not shield consciously he was as much prey to nightmares as any human fighter I had known.

Quietly I slipped from under the furs and poked up the fire again, adding new wood. Cold, always the cold. At least the ground was dry and sandy. That was definitely an improvement from the bare forest floor of the last weeks.

Over the day, the storm intensified. Raven woke slowly and around midday called the change to hunt. I stayed in the cave, grateful for the dryness and warmth, but shifting gloomy thoughts. I was relieved when Raven returned some time before dusk. The wolf was sopping wet, and carried a mouthful of silvery fishes with an air of great satisfaction.

'There is more where that came from'

He left for a second trip, obviously picking up what he had not been able to carry the first time, and heaped a veritable amount of fish beside the fire. I took over the remaining preparation of our dinner. Once he had called the change Raven looked exhausted and drawn, but did not mention the last night at all. Some time after nightfall wolves began to howl not far away. Their shifting chorus was often lost in the howling storm, but Raven listened with closed eyes.

"What do they say?" I asked after a while, idly whittling down a branch in the vague hope to smooth it enough for an arrow. I had expected an evasive answer or no reply at all, but Raven looked up "Nothing special. It is just…just for the fun of it. They sing. They are happy. Almost all this year's pups survived. They hunted well tonight. The pack is strong. The wind blows. That is what they say"

"Was there ever a time when you did not understand them? As a child, I mean?"

He was startled at the question "If so, I do not remember it" he said softly "I don't think there was. It is easier to howl than to speak. Maybe I…I remember a time when I could not speak as the adults did. But I cannot remember not being able to howl"

"There was a time when I could confuse a wind's howl with a wolf's in weather like this" I admitted wryly, thinking how silly that must sound to Raven – to a wolf. But Raven did not even smile. He drew his knees up and wrapped his arms around them "The Ashi'kha say that the wind howls with wolf voices" he said quietly "There is nothing wrong with that…confusion. I…I have the right to tell that tale. Do you want to hear it?"

At my puzzled nod, he started to speak softly, keeping his eyes on the flames.

"_The shaman say, before any World was made, and Shadow was driven back to lie at the edge of it and frame it, before that time, only Wind existed. In that time before World and Shadow were separated, in which World was created out of Shadow, the shaman say, the Wind had wings. The Wind took a body and became Hawk. Hawk did not only ride the Wind, as it looked to those creatures that came later and are earthbound - Hawk is the Wind himself. When Hawk now flies to lead the dead to the World Beyond, the Ashi'kha also say that they Walk the Wind. _

_After World and Shadow had become different places, the Wind became confined within the World. Beyond Shadow, beyond the places where light and dark alternate, no Wind ever came. It died trying to cross Shadow. But Wind was caught in the World for a long time, and he taught all creatures living there the right way to live. Then Wind took a Voice, and began to carry the voices of others. Wind spoke to them, and they heard, and when the Wind howled, the wolves answered. _

_The Raven also rode the Wind, and played with him. No matter how strong and wild Wind was, Raven always knew how to fly with him. For a while, Wind was angry, but then he remembered that he himself had taught Raven to fly, and now Raven had found how to fly even better. Only when Wind became Hawk, Raven was bested, and he feared Hawk. Raven was proud though, and when Hawk flew, Raven also rose, and he teased Hawk and chased him._

_When he saw the black Raven swooping behind him, Wind was reminded of Shadow. _If Raven is a part of that Shadow that remained in this world, and I can best Raven, _thought Wind_, then I may dare Shadow_. And Hawk flew to the edge of the World where Shadow lay, and as Hawk Wind passed even beyond the World, beyond Shadow. He found a World Beyond, a world beyond Shadow, where Death had no power. _

_When he returned, Hawk could not fly everywhere to spread the news, and so instead Wind passed in all the places of the world and told of what he had found. Even into the deepest caves Wind came, and still today the air down there is never wholly quiet – Wind passed everywhere, and still his passing echoes in those places. _

_Wolf and Raven were always friends. Raven rode the Wind to follow the packs, and Wind carried the scent of prey to the Wolves. He also carried the scent of hunter to the prey, and both parties decided the hunt. Raven followed them, watching, sneaking among the Wolves when they killed and picking the bones when they had left. _

_Hawk saw everything through Wind's eyes, and whenever a creature died, Hawk came to guide its soul into the World beyond Shadow. Wind especially loved the winged ones, but when he looked among the hunters, he found that the Wolves were closest to him. His passing brought them news of all kinds, and they read the wind as no other creature did. It was they who answered when the Wind blew, and it was Wind who carried their voices far over the lands when they called to each other. _

_In that Time, Hawk flew far and wide, and his great wings shone golden in the sun, except when he was trailed by Raven, who flew behind him and cut off the light, casting a rippling shadow on Hawk's bright feathers. The creatures then often saw Hawk, and felt safe because they knew Hawk was there to guide them. But slowly Time changed and was changed, and Hawk no longer flew openly, and could be seen only sometimes, high above, his flight bright against the blue sky. When Wind blew hard in storms, only Raven dared him, and he laughed harshly when the gales drove him across the sky. But Raven, though not as wise as Hawk, knew it was not good that Wind no longer took a body so often, and came in secret only, when the sun just rises above the horizon, above the edge of Shadow, and when Shadow withdraws from the World of Day. In the Time when both Shadow and Brightness share the World, Hawk still flew, and today still flies. A bright Star shines in the sky then, and when the Wolves see it, they know Hawk will come, and they howl before the first light of Day comes into the sky. _

_But Raven shouted for Wind to appear, and when he did, Raven flew angrily to meet Hawk, and demanded him to return, saying that Dread had entered the World now, and the Nightwind was feared. Wind took thought then, but he realized that Hawk could no longer fly as Raven had demanded. Therefore he told Raven to fly and take a part of Hawk's work, and to fly far and wide and tell the creatures that though Hawk would only fly at Dawn, Wind, as he was Hawk, had still the same power he had had in the beginning, before Wind had taken a body, when he had taught them and they had listened. _

_Raven flew first to the Wolves, and they cared little how Wind appeared to them. They were the greatest Hunters of the World, and their Song was heard and the message understood by all, Hunter and Prey alike. Only that the wind continued to blow concerned the Wolves. Wind therefore decided he would be a Voice instead, to be ever present, and now a Wolf running softly in the forest is heard only as a whisper of Wind, and the Howl of the Wolf is echoed in the Howl of the Wind. Sometimes, in the season of Raven, when the Storms blow wild and hail and rain lash the land, and in the season of Wolf, when snow falls, Wind becomes visible still. In the snow, the shaman say, you can see the body of Wind, and snow driving down to the earth is like Hawk's feathers when he ends his flight in a dive and comes to rest on the ground"_

He looked at me uncertainly "That is the Wind's Tale as I was told it by Nightchaser. It is usually sung, but…I am not a singer…This is also the tale as you may keep it and tell wherever you want and whenever you see fit"

I hesitated. Songs or tales were precious gifts for many peoples who had no writing. Darkstone had told me something like that. What did the Ashi'kha do? Raven said precious little about his people.

"I do not know what the proper response would be to that among your people" I said carefully "But I know that sometimes the Avari trade for tales. Is there something I can offer in return?"

Now Raven looked genuinely startled "I…don't know. I keep them, but…" he broke off.

"You keep them?" I asked curiously. Raven nodded slowly "I am the…the remaining Keeper of the Songs for wolf clan. Niy'ashi and I were. I can not sing, so we shared the…place. I…keep the words and the tales. Niy'ashi kept the…chants. The melodies. They…will have to find someone to take that place if I return…when I return" Raven stared into the fire again "There is indeed something you can give me in return" he said slowly after a while "Though I ask it for myself, not for the whole clan as yet"

I nodded, puzzled, waiting.

"Tell me this: What do you know of houseless fёar?"

I tossed a few broken sticks into the fire and walked over to sit down beside Raven. This was not a topic I relished. Bothering with the unseen was definitely not what I considered my leisure pursuit. It was enough to see and fight the very material effects invisible things had on the world, I did not care to explore the causes. Also it was not something considered proper knowledge. But still, I could say what I knew. Maybe I could find out a little more about Raven.

"_Why_ do you ask? Your brother?-"

Raven closed his eyes for a moment before answering. "I thought he might…be around still. So I tried to call him"

"And did you find…him?"

"Not last night. But before…" Raven broke off.

"You tried looking for…his fёa? How? _When_?"

"A few moons after…he was slain. And no, I did not find him. But something that was…definitely not Niy'ashi"

"My people believe that the fёa obeys the call to Mandos immediately" I said slowly "Communion with the dead is…not only forbidden but outright dangerous. At least so I have been told. Maybe therefore no one knows what's going on in the shadow world between Arda and Mandos. Maybe we should bother to find out. If fading is the same as becoming houseless"

Raven looked at me searchingly "So" he said after a moment of silence. "I thought you might know…_what_ I found. What I could have found. How I could have found out…if it was…had been…Niy'ashi once-"

"I…do not know…where you looked" I said slowly. "I do not now what places one could look for the dead" I took a deep breath. I had grown used to the wolf, to the wild magic Raven used, his strange way of mind-speaking. But the dead – I sighed. Silmarussё _had _obeyed the summons. I knew.

"Let me correct that" I said softly "I know where to look for the fёar of _my _people. But you are asking for Ashi'kha fёar"

I had known Raven would immediately put one and one together.

"You looked for her as well"

It was a statement. I had never told anyone except Silverleaf. It was no use getting accused of heresy on top of perverted love. Raven, in any case, was not going to rail either, it seemed. I nodded "The night she was killed. Almost…well, a few hours afterwards. She…was not there…anymore"

Raven looked away for a moment "So there isa way to find the dead. If they are there, that is…You know nothing in my wildest dreams would have made me guess you might have tried that path. You must have been pretty desperate then"

I suppose my silence was enough answer for him "The houseless ones can be strong" I said abruptly "Did you think about that? You cannot key your searching to one fёa alone. You could have found yourself out of your body and in…in between or wherever?"

"I thought of nothing" Raven said "I'm not shaman. I wanted to know if Fingal had gone or was still around. In whatever form"

"Why did you do that last night?"

"You do not answer my question"

"Answer mine first"

Raven frowned irritably, rubbing the bandages on his arms. "It's all about hate, you know?" he snapped "And I did that before, going back. When I tried to find Fingal. That is the way _we _can look for fёar. The way Nightchaser told me"

I remained silent, so Raven went on "That searching requires a full trance – I think that works the same in our races. Though it was not 'going back' really. It was all around me at that time. What I know about the houseless ones for sure is this: Some of the…spirits that make a werewolf into one are…were…Elven once. That is why they are too strong to be destroyed, and we can only break their hold over the body they inhabit….Can your people talk to them?" Raven added "Or if they met werewolves, could they drive the spirits from their…carriers? Hosts?"

"Yes, to the first question, as far as I know, no to the second. And don't bother to ask, except the thing with Silmarussё I have never tried either. And I prefer a bow or a spear to deal with any were-creature I might meet. I don't know anyone who might risk losing his body to a corrupted fёa for the sake of the creature it possesses at that moment. Besides, I don't think anyone knows your definition of werewolf"

"It's not mine, it's Nightchaser's, and I can prove it anytime you want. Find me a werewolf and I will show you"

"Most certainly I won't. But tell me – has nothing ever gone wrong? Did never one of your people lose such a…battle?"

Raven shook his head, staring at his scratched hands thoughtfully "No. What if you would have found her?" he said abruptly.

I gave a wry laugh "Only you could ask that!"

"Yes, maybe. Because I think you would have…the thought to…let her in must have occurred to you"

I watched him for a long moment "It is _said _that it works – but as to how, I do _not _know. The…dream paths can take you to a place where you can communicate with those who went west. Sometimes. Sometimes not. And only if they you seek are willing. But never with the ones who are…dead. Not with Silmarusse" I paused "We can search the dream-paths if you want. But you said before you did not know them. Even if we went there, I doubt we could find Fingal's fёa there…I know where I looked for Silmarussё. I could lead you there as well"

Raven bit his lip "_A foolish and perilous thing, a wrong deed justly forbidden by the rightful rulers of Arda", _that is what your people say, isn't it? You know, to the wolf that is but black marks on paper, and words hold no power for him – but father quoted that at Nightchaser when he realized what _shin'a'sha_ could be. I know I have no right to accept that offer, let alone to have you asked that"

I shrugged.

"You would do that?"

I took a deep breath "I might be hung for horse rather than just a sheep. Yes"

Chapter Notes:

Arda Marred: In _Athrabeth Finrod a Andreth_ Finrod says"for you live in Arda Marred, as do we, and all the matter of Arda was tainted by (Melkor), before ye or we came forth and drew our hröar and their sustenance therefrom"

Eöl again: was it just Eldarin arrogance that he was called _the _Dark Elf, or was there more to it? What did he learn of the Dwarves besides their smith-craft? His "enchantments" which he "set about" Aredhel "so that she could not find the ways out" (_The Silmarillion_) of Nan Elmoth would seem to have been either too strong or too foreign to be broken by _her – _and she was certainly a powerful Elf. So- he probably had some skills that moved the other elves to call him Dark Elf not only because he lived in Nan Elmoth (in _The War of the Jewels _Eöl is even said to have learned his craft during slavery in Thangorodrim -).

Houseless ones: "Some say that the Houseless desire bodies, though they are not willing to seek them lawfully by submission to the judgement of Mandos. The wicked among them will take bodies, if they can, unlawfully. The peril of communing with them is…peril also of destruction. For one of the hungry Houseless, if it is admitted to the friendship of the Living, may seek to eject the fёa from its body…" (_Morgoth's Ring_)

13


	38. Chapter 38 Lady of the valley

**Lady of the Valley**

TA 2911, year of the Fell Winter

Gildor's POV

You said I'll be back before –

Now the Darkness returns

Silence again , fading to white

- Tracks in the virgin snow

- Black trees in the glare of the sun

Time is so precious

if we only knew how –

Killing to live is simple no more

The seasons change but I can not

- Beyond the night the wind will die

And winter comes again

Now you are back , returning

with darkness and cold

- Tracks in the virgin snow

- You left the trees in the sun

Our time is so precious

You know that so well

As the blowing wind dies

the year returns

from winter back

to winter

I had gone back to the valley for the next moons, fed up with bad weather in the wild, but Raven could not face staying the coming spring and summer there. He longed for the wolf, and the valley frightened him. So we had separated and agreed that I would remain in Imladris while Raven – or rather, the black wolf – would roam the wild lands around on his own.

Until winter. Then, so we agreed, Raven would meet me a safe distance from the Rim, and we would judge what to do next. I had not been pleased at the idea of separating, and if he was honest, neither was Raven really happy with it. But he also wished desperately for time alone, time as wolf only. And it was obvious that we could find no common ground in that respect.

Maybe not yet. Maybe not ever. Neither of us could yet say.

I wondered if Raven would spend the coming winter with me, stay in Imladris. Up to then, for a few moons, he would not care for that in any way. No Elven worries at all. Only the wolf.

I felt a bit envious.

_The Nirnaeth. Nothing of the historical facts, no battle account, no paintings, no reports carried the true meaning it had for me._

_Looking back. As much as Imladris was a safe place, a refuge, a location I had to return to over again, it was so full of memory. I could not avoid walking into something that would remind me of those times. Weapons, banners, books, it followed me whether I was careful or not. _

_Nights were deceptive. Dream and memory were two things, but dream tended to be crueller. And much less controllable._

_The Nirnaeth. We had fled then, behind a living wall of Men. Like cowards, we had fled the lost field! For what? _

_For the sake of the city. For hiding. _

_It had become night, a clear night. The moon had been almost full. The fumes had dispersed slowly, and only the destruction had remained as we looked back from the hills._

_And then, Beleriand was destroyed. It took a while until I could call it that. Until we realized what was happening. The earth shook, mountains fell, plains rose. Like roaches from the light we scuttled from the water that suddenly poured inland. _

_Bless the rhevain and their knowledge of their lands. They knew where to go, to run. Again. _

_And then the tidings came. The Valar had come. They had destroyed the Black One. And now?_

_Take ship. Go west. So many do. Go with them. _

_Things will get well once more. Go west. The Valar will help, will heal. Return - ._

_I woke from a long unconsciousness slowly, uncertain if I wanted to at all. Then something tugged at me, tried to keep me from waking. That was unacceptable. Just for the sake of fighting that force, I resisted, pulled back._

"_Leave that be" – I tried to shove the healer away._

"_But you must rest, you have been hurt" _

_Healers. Typical –_

"_But you must let-"_

"_I must let nothing and no one" I was irritated no end, without knowing why. Could not just everyone leave me in peace for once? I blinked. I vaguely remembered, someone dragging me off, out of the worst of the chaos. What had happened?_

_I did not want to remember. Enough had happened that I considered dropping dead on the spot. Everything hurt. I had not known I possessed such muscles or bones in such places._

_The healer let me be, mercifully. There were enough wounded the healers had to attend to. Simple expediency decided he should not bother fighting with me. People who could argue were getting better._

_Silver moonlight. I got up, feeling I would burst if I lay still a moment longer. Time was writhing. The Nirnaeth had been long ago. I wrapped a long robe tight around me to hide my constitution and make sure the guards would let me pass. Leaving the healers and sentinels behind I made for the coast._

_We were near the coast now. Because the sea had come up to meet us. In the moonlight, the raw, unnamed cliffs shimmered white like ice. The shore was empty, pale-white the sand as well. On the sea, the moon cast a glittering line as it sank towards the west._

_A perverse little voice wondered why here was sand, here, where green forest had been before all lands had bucked and twisted? _

_Many were going. The summons were out. Even I had heard them, here with the rhevain. _

_Some had already left. _

_When the Valar had returned west. _

_I walked down to the water. The distance had been greater than I had expected, from the camp across the dunes and down the steep path zig-zagging over the cliff-face. To the shoreline, until I was on wet sand. I dropped to my knees there, both because my legs refused to carry me further and the memories suddenly seemed too heavy to bear._

_We had left together. We would not return apart. Moonlight on ice, moonlight on the wide plains of Beleriand, long before the whole land had been explored at all, the grasses waving in the night-wind. I remembered Silmarussё that night, after the ice, when the moon rose, spreading her arms wide and whirling around. The moonlight glittering silver on her armour, on the hilt of her blade which had given her her name. Her hair flying, silvered as well._

"_I want to travel this land. I want to see it all!"_

_And now they said, return, plead for forgiveness. Just as they had said before the Ice. Do not go on, return._

_We had survived the Ice, and I had survived the white city and the wars. I would not go back. They were all dead. Even if I went, what would I have? _

We are not children any longer – we are warriors. _So she had said. And going back – what would it be, but to walk streets and forests I had known long before, I had walked with her? What would it be but eternal memory of a time that never returned, not even in the Blessed Realm? _

_She had wanted to travel – so I would._

_She had been proud – I would not shame her by leaving now._

_Time writhes in dreams. _

_We were lying together, and Silmarussё was leaning over me, laughing. The world narrowed to the space between our faces, framed by her hair, the feel of her muscular fighter's body pressed to mine._

_Ice, white-washed sea-cliffs, high walls of orderly white blocks – a dark tunnel, and the grey rock of high cliffs, shouting and cries. Faces that rushed past, someone screaming my name and hands on my arms, keeping me back, dragging me down – shadow and flame - _

I woke, panting. I disentangled myself from the covers and got up, crossing the room and pushing the windows open to look out over the valley of Imladris, still and quiet under the deep night. Only the sound of a light wind in the beech trees, and rushing water.

Dreams and memories.

I closed my eyes and breathed the fresh night air deeply until my heart stopped racing. The cold echo of the dreams remained, making me feel hollow.

Why could not the wolf be here now?

When things were out of tilt, walk, run, go out into the forest. That was alright for him, but I was trapped here. Why could not Raven be here?

Because he was running from his own troubles. And probably getting himself into even more in the process. Valar's grace, I could have used his company now!

Even if he were only here, that was better than…what? What was this feeling of senselessness and loss, if not the unending return of memories that could never be anything other than ghosts and echoes?

Perhaps it was loneliness. As strange and different as Raven was, he…was dear to me. Whatever that might mean. And damn, I missed him. May the Valar – I interrupted myself. Old habits, right? I of all the world should realize I was definitely out of range of any Valarian favours. I squeezed my eyes shut again. _Orome, protect him_, I thought darkly._ If there was anyone who might understand a wolf, it should be you, Great Hunter. _

Somewhere in the wild:

_The black wolf was close enough to the valley now and slowed his trot. The fresh spring green of the forest was ruffled by a cool breeze which brought a lot of interesting scents to the wolf's nose. The sky was clear yet, but the smell of rain was on the wind already. _

_The pack had passed here a day ago, and they weren't far away now. _

_Joy. _

_Not a name, for wolves did not give names. _

_More a concept of her character._

_Lowering his nose to the ground the black followed a thin tendril of scent through the undergrowth to a particular spot. Yes, he was at the farthest border of their territory now. They would easily hear him if he called them now._

_He got an answer almost immediately. But the leader's one voice wasn't joined by the others. The wolf was puzzled. He recognized the voice as belonging to her easily – but…_

_He left the marking spot and ran down into the valley. Since he wisely approached from the smooth, green side he needed not bother with rocks and landslides. In a short time he had reached the valley's bottom._

_The black followed the brook flowing through the valley, splashing through the water and snapping at a few frogs which lay lazily at the bottom. He met her suddenly, her light grey coat showing her up against the dark background of trees behind her as she stepped out on a slightly raised mound at the bank. She looked down on him with a smug expression. _

_The wind was behind him, the black realized, berating himself for this inattentiveness. She had smelled him all along and probably outrun him to intercept him now._

_She didn't seem to have changed, the black wolf thought. Still almost white and unruffled._

_But she was alone. No trace of cubs, or of another male._

_The black went forward to greet her properly as the pack mother and leader she was. When he leapt up to her mound with his tail and head lowered she didn't wait for him to reach her, and pushed his head up with her muzzle, an inquiring look in her yellow eyes._

_The black wolf tried to evade her eyes, not wishing to challenge but Raven met her gaze. She was quite aware of what he was, and he knew that though wolves tended to take things as they came and his kind were always welcome she would wonder._

'_why are you here, changewolf?'_

_That was much more direct than wolf standard. She was talking to unfurred more than to the wolf. The black wolf flicked his ears, puzzled. The changer felt tempted to return a 'why do you ask' but rhetoric questions weren't something a wolf understood._

'_I wish to see my people again' _

'_your people. That is well'_

_She looked away, breaking the frail contact and invited him to follow with a flick of her bushy tail. Wait and see the black wolf counselled his bewildered and worried elven part._

_The pack was gathered in a small clearing, the fresh grass dotted with tiny blue flowers. The pack – both unfurred and furred immediately surmised the members – had shrunk. Three he had known were missing, and their scent gone from the others. Three remained, a young grey male, a yearling male, and an old grey wolf the black one recognized as occupying the lowest rank._

_He knew only him, not the youngsters. As changewolf the black knew he was a temporary addition to the pack and would be expected to take his place below the lowest ranking wolf. They greeted him almost enthusiastically still, with much less dominance he would have expected from a severely decimated mountain pack. _

_After a nap the wolf's mind usually turns to hunger, and the hunt. It wasn't different today, and an additional set of teeth seemed more than welcome. The changer had not hunted in a pack for a long time. The conventional ranks were out of order while hunting, but he kept behind the wolves as they started a brisk trot into the forest. _

_The hunt and the meal were finished some time after nightfall, and the wolves had curled up to rest. Though he had had to dutifully wait for his turn on the prey even the black wolf felt sated now. The grass beneath him was crisp and covered in yellow and reddish leaves, and the worries of unfurred were mercifully far away._

_The sun ran its course until the first snow fell. The wolves of the pack were tensed and fights arose over little things. Joy kept her pack-mates at bay as winter deepened. Though they fought among themselves, the order of rank was not changed. The black kept out of the fights if he could. One night in midwinter after a successful but exhausting hunt in deep snow he was preparing to sleep when she came to lie down beside him. She had a wary look in her eyes and her ears were shifting towards her pack-mates. The black wolf recognized this for what it was. He caught her yellow-eyed gaze for a moment. The young grey, just below her in rank, growled without standing up. She growled back. The black wolf tensed, caught between unfurred and his instincts for a moment. In the spontaneous world of the wolves he had moments to decide how to react. Her implication and query had been clear though she never once had spoken to his mind directly. For the pack mother and simultaneous leader of the pack to turn to the lowest ranking spelled conflict. _

_Unfortunately question and action fell together. If he got up now he acknowledged her leader status and his low position as well as rejecting her offer. If he stayed and accepted, he also accepted the challenge of the pack._

_The other wolves had raised their heads at the snarl but would not side immediately with anyone. The black wolf flicked his ears and got into a half lying half crouching position, ready for defence. _

'_why? I'm neither furred nor unfurred ' he directed sharply at her. She rose as well, shaking out her fur with a twitch and facing the grey one. _

'_you'd be good mate' was her terse sending, encompassing the wolf's whole emotions on the grey wolf and him. _

'_pack fails'_

_The young grey one got to his feet, so did the black and they began circling each other. Behind the wolf's mind Raven was debating ethics he had never bothered about, all in the flash of a second. She sensed his dithering, and took mercy on him. Turning away from the scene, with her back to the males, she walked a few paces away. The simple action dispersed the whole incident. The grey hesitated a moment. The black wolf lowered his head and turned away. Abruptly, routine returned. _

_The black flopped to the ground and settled his head on his forelegs. This had not been strictly the way, but all wolves tended to be lenient when a changer was involved. And the white leader had not cancelled the scene completely, merely postponed the solution._

_Raven was puzzled. He had run with her pack before, had kept watch over her cups. But she had never overtly courted him._

_She had never before lacked a proper mate._

That was it._ Wolf mind-speech was as weird as howling, but he took her statement to mean that. Pack fails. She had obviously rejected the young grey as a mate, coming right behind her in rank. He would have been suitable. _

_In theory. He was not one of her own cubs, but the yearling male probably was, so he was out of the question as well. And the old one had displayed great disinterest in the recent confrontation._

_The black noticed her missing. Of course it was her right to be absent as pack leader. But that she left now, leaving him with a strange and unstable pack told him she was adding a subtle – very subtle, unwolfish – question._

_The decision was his. So what could he do?_

_The only choices were acceptance or rejection. She would accept either without grudge. But he could not completely reject unfurred, now that she had appealed to the changewolf and not just the black._

_The wolf was easily decided. Only the grey was a true rival. Why dither?_

_Unfurred held back with fears he had never considered. There had never been stories of changewolves mating with true ones. The old songs implied it, but not even Saka'nor or Nightchaser had been able to figure out the correct meanings. _

_Even with their closeness, what would happen? Was it right? What would their offspring be like? If there was any._

_He had wished uncountable times to be wolf, and wolf alone. _

_Maybe khai'tohr's concepts of proper love and such had entered fluff into his set of morals. The wolf watched him, smugly and amused at the same time. The nighthunter's eyes burned his mental back._

_Who are you? Who am I? _

_Right now, he was wolf. The wolf was decided. _

_What of misborn?_

_Now that was a thought. _

_The black took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Raven felt his contempt for dithering thoughts, and his non-understanding._

_Try. Simply try. Did he want it? It was no question of sexual ethics for him._

"_Both ways are open to you" _

_Nightchaser's words. _

_Would not the shaman know?_

_But he had been speaking about a lifetime decision. Leaving unfurred to oblivion and becoming wholly wolf.-_

_The black got to his feet and left on her trail. Concealed almost completely, he found her by scent, not by the white of her pelt. Her yellow eyes met his with obvious concentration. She always got that look when she was trying to 'think words'. _

'_decide?' _

_He flattened his ears in denial. 'you risk'_

_Now how to encompass his doubts to her. Would she care? She rose, aggressively, but keeping the threat out of it by holding her tail low. _

'_my pack' _

'_your life. What of danger?'_

'_my pack is my life'_

_It all came down to the wolf. And only the wolf._

_The black lay down, not taking his eyes from her. After a moment, she joined him, resting her chin on his shoulder._

_Tomorrow would mean a fight._

_The black came into the clearing, the white female by his side. He stopped, and the wolves turned their heads in their direction simultaneously. He met each gaze in turn. The yearling drew his lips back and rose, but without much decision. The black raised his tail and advanced. The yearling hesitated, then looked away. The old one held his gaze, but didn't even rise. The grey was on his feet, tail raised, his ruff bristling. _

_The black reacted by stepping into his line of advance. He fanned his own ruff out. There would be no leniency now. The changewolf had crossed the border to the true wolves; demanding their ways meant acting their way._

_Niy'ashi had been a grey when he changed._

_The black put that thought firmly out of his mind and let his challenge stand, waiting for the grey to attack. He was taller than the mountain wolf. But the changer also knew that he was no leader. The right to mate went with the obligation to lead. _

_The ability to lead. _

_That was his greatest fear. The grey sensed that, his reluctance to fight wholeheartedly for the lead. _

_Once at the pack's top he needed not worry – she would remain leader. And she had not chosen the grey. But this was between the males._

_The grey attacked with fangs bared, holding no aggression back. The wolf took over completely, obliterating Raven's doubts. The grey crashed into him and the black felt teeth on his neck. For a second he withdrew. He had never before earnestly fought a true wolf. Not for the lead._

_Then he hurled himself forward, wrapping the grey with his forelegs and driving the snapping wolf back with his greater weight. The ensuing fight gained in speed, and attack and retreat became instinctive. The black forgot everything but the will to kill. _

_The grey knocked him to the ground. Twisting over the black saw his chance. The grey's teeth closed on his flank, drawing blood, but in his upward surge the black buried his fangs in the fur on the grey's throat and bit down until he felt flesh._

_Both wolves froze. With a yelp the grey twisted away, and the black released him, panting. His opponent turned away in submission, then, being at a loss, shook out his fur and sat down to lick his bleeding shoulder._

_The black shook himself, waiting. He was not challenged again._

The cubs were born late. Earlier fight forgotten the whole pack helped raise them.

Time passed, though the wolf heeded it little.

The Hunter's Moon though, that was one thing even a wolf regarded as constant. Faithfully it returned each sun-round, and brought sometimes rich prey and sometimes scarce. This year it was rich, but as the moon hung low in the sky and the pack enjoyed and communicated their success to all possible listeners the black was reminded of something.

He had to go. Why, that was not the wolf's concern, but once having realized it, Raven was adamant. Time had passed. He had promised.

Thick and glittering frost rimed everything when he neared the Elves' valley. It had been the night of the first snow when he had left the high mountains. Now he drifted along the valley's borders and howled, announcing his presence and waiting for an answer with a trepidation he finally acknowledged as fear that there might be no response.

Chapter Notes:

Nirnaeth Arnoediad: The Battle of Unnumbered Tears; Turgon had to retreat in secret and under cover of Hurin's fighters to keep the location of Gondolin secret.

Beleriand: In the 40 years of the War of Wrath the Valar came to Middle-earth and defeated Morgoth. The Western lands of Middle-earth were destroyed and sank under the rising sea.

9


	39. Chapter 39 Rivendell PT1

**Rivendell I**

Raven's POV

around TA 2913

I lowered my muzzle and stood listening for a moment. I knew that if there were other wolves near, they would not answer to this call – I had not addressed them. Neither would I get any direct answer from the one I _had _addressed. So I could only wait. And after more than a full sun-course _without time_, any conscious waiting seemed too long.

Evil things do not come into this valley, so it was said. I drifted about its borders restlessly, aware of – something, a line I would not have crossed had only the wolf decided. I dared not scry for Gildor's presence, sensing many others and fearing either they or the watching something would become aware of me.

The night was very still, and very cold. There was no snow here yet. I had left its range near the mountains, crossing the wide land that was Eregion. I was comfortable now. But to Unfurred, the air would have a bitter chill. There would be sentinels. I kept my distance from the Rim, not wanting to be spied and cause unwanted alarm. I might escape mortal hunters easily, but I would have no chance against elven ones. I found what looked like a main path and dithered around the location, sniffing and listening intently. Paths were always watched.

I lay down under a bush. Its few brown leaves rustled softly as I stirred the bare branches, working my way into cover. I rested my head on my forepaws and waited.

After an indeterminable time I became aware of motion and approach. The sensation was undefined, and I remained in cover until it cleared. Horse, the scent said, and so did the soft thud of unshod hooves. I stretched my muzzle into the faint breeze and felt relief wash over me. For a moment I remained under the bush, taken aback by the force of the emotion.

A short time later Fairё came into view, a pale and truly ghostlike appearance in the shifting light and dark patterns under the trees if I did not look at her with a wolf's eyes. The light grey mane flowed gently with every step she took. Her rider did not look less intimidating. The lands were not peaceful, not even here anymore. I was some distance from the Rim proper. Gildor did not ride bareback now, he had taken Fairё's war-gear and his blade was strapped to his back. His tight-fitting riding leathers were dark grey as well, and he had his hair confined into a single thick braid. Both horse and rider blended into the background as they wove through the trees. I watched them as they neared my hiding place, once more wondering what brought us together. Beast of shadow. What could an Eldarin warrior as powerful as Gildor find in me that he rode out to look for a hiding wolf in a bitter cold night that was better spent in front of a fire?

Fairё halted some distance from me, and Gildor cast a searching glance towards the thicket. He must have been scrying for me. Or Fairё had told on me again. The wind was at my back.

"Raven?" he said softly "I know you're here, and you can come out, the sentinels are further down"

I felt foolish, crouching in the shadows here because I dared not enter the valley alone. Leaving my bush I shook my fur vigorously and trotted over to Fairё before I could hesitate. I looked up at him warily as Gildor dismounted, trying to decide what mood he was in. I was taken by surprise when he knelt and brought our eyes level that way, taking my head in both hands.

'I thought you would not come back after all'

There was a world to that simple mind-spoken statement. I winced inwardly, and flattened my ears in discomfort. For a moment I was tempted to tell what had happened, why I had stayed away a year longer than I had intended. But then - Gildor accepted the changewolf. That was all I could ask. I could hardly tell him that Joy and the black-.

'The wolf does not count time' I said uneasily 'I…lost track of it…I know I said _last_ winter. I'm sorry'

It was unfamiliar, revealing, to think in words again. I had assumed that since Gildor generally lived in the valley, he would have his friends here. And hardly needed to worry about a changer who was more trouble when he was present than when he was out and about.The wolf was self-centred. He thought for the moment, and his own survival and time were mostly on his mind. I had consciously chosen the wolf for the past years, and now felt more than slightly guilty. The wolf had kept me from worrying, but also from pondering. He had spared me the uncertainty of our relationship. I had not thought about that, that Unfurred would have wondered. It would have been my obligation to have considered that.

'Silly dog' Fairё said acidly, swishing her tail in irritation 'By Orome's hounds, I kept look-out when grazing out of valley' Her tart sending was keyed to the wolf, which threw me quite a bit. Another assumption gone astray. I had thought she only had a mind-speaking range, and could not key her sendings.

Gildor got up and took a roll off Fairё's back which turned out to be spare clothes 'Will you change, or come as wolf and get the shock over with?'

'Change' I said hurriedly, horrified 'I have no desire to end up at the stake!'

'You know we don't conduct witch-hunts' Gildor returned, amused.

'Maybe not. But neither are wolves on the list of your people's favourite beasts'

To call the change after two sun-courses of being only wolf was disconcerting. When I changed regularly, the shock of shifting receded to nothing. But now it felt as if the whole world was turned upside down. The cold night air hit me like a wall, and for a moment I was completely disoriented. The sense of hearing and scenting reduced to the level of Unfurred, and the effect was that of feeling blind and deaf for a moment until the dizziness passed. I dug my hands into the crisp dead leaves and tried to come to terms with elven perception. The watching force that had made the wolf uneasy was even more palpable now. Alarmed, I glanced at Gildor, but he did not seem to sense anything threatening.

I got up and pulled the clothes on Gildor handed me. Black. I felt both amused and pleased. If unfurred and unable to go naked, it was always easier to wear things that had the colour of my own fur.

'Do you know how hard it is to find some _black _clothes in Imladris? But I thought you would hardly enjoy riding the whole way down naked'

I snickered softly. Unfurred, I had to think again to make the appropriate sounds. Amused, the wolf would have wagged his tail 'I did not think of riding at all' I followed Gildor towards Fairё, shivering as we started out, acutely aware of having no protective pelt anymore. But riding I could at least concentrate on the land to some degree. And on Gildor in front of me.

'This land…' I said after a while, as Faire reached a fork in the path and turned left, descending steeply '…it does not like the feel of wolf paws. I dared not enter. That is why I called for you'

Gildor nodded slightly 'I assumed so. Few wolves have the cheek to howl at these borders. It _is_ watched. But you need not fear any harm'

Fairё descended the winding path at her usual brisk pace. I braced myself against Gildor's back to avoid bumping into him. Soon we rounded another corner and the valley proper came into view. I looked at the high towers and the complex of fragmented buildings and bridges with a strange prickling in my gut. There were lights in many windows, and wood-smoke curled up from a few separated houses. This was larger than any congregation of houses I had ever seen. As wolf, I would have turned tail right here. To think I would have to deal not only with the houses but with their inhabitants turned my stomach into knots.

Besides the main river uncounted smaller branches of it and other brooks fell from the steep sides of the valley and snaked around and through the buildings. It was impossible to leave or arrive by a straight route here. Gildor halted Fairё at another sharp turn after which the path descended even more rapidly towards the first of the bridges.

"Imladris" he stated and gesturing vaguely at the buildings "There you see the last two bridges, the main yard, the stables to the left. On the right you have the smithy at the back, the bathhouses and the baker – which are about the most important institutions you should keep in mind. Aside from the kitchens of course, but they lie out to the other side. You have the library in the left wing tower, and all the living rooms in the right, away from the smithy. And the rest you will find out when we get there"

I stared at the golden plait swinging in front of me as Fairё started off again 'What if they…find out about me?'

Gildor shrugged 'Then they will' He looked back over his shoulder "You realize that if you want Elrond to plan the Ashi'kha into his war-preparations you will have to reveal your little secret at one time?"

I avoided his eyes 'I know. But not yet. And I can't help thinking there must be a more intelligent way of broaching the topic than just turning wolf in front of the whole valley'

"But it would be a very effective way" Gildor grinned, obviously imagining the look on some faces.

'What are they all doing here?' I asked uncomfortably as we crossed the last bridge, eying the people in the yard. Gildor snickered "They all? This is only a quarter of the scouts on night-duty, and they are late going off, coming to think of it. But Imladris never truly sleeps. Some people are always up and about beside the guards"

I clutched the back of Fairё's saddle and tried not to cringe from the puzzled looks as we crossed the yard and entered the stables. I helped Gildor to get the tack off Fairё and provide her with food, fumbling clumsily with two hands for a while. Then I followed him across the tight-fitted cobblestones and inside, casting a last apprehensive look at the high towers.

Imladris seemed a mazelike building. I felt extremely glad of the airy and fragmented building style. It was less easy to feel suffocated here than within solid and unbroken stone walls. Here, most walls were breached by gates and windows, their frames held up by intricate, airy constructions. It was impossible not to sense the – _strangeness _of this place. I tried to shake the feeling off and turned my attention to the surroundings. In its own way, this was a beautiful place. No solid stone blocks, but lots of detailed, fragile looking masonry. And all stone structures were interspersed with trees, or even built around them. But it remained strange and unsettling.

Gildor made straight for the wing that held the rooms, but the walk there was confusing still. Without the sky visible I could not determine the directions we were taking, so I tried for landmarks. Statues, pillars, flowering pots. We passed an archway and went along a wide corridor with high windows to the one side. I got a look around at the surrounding mountains.

High mountains. Valleys could be wonderful hiding places, but I had no knowledge of the Imladris valley. Attacked, what would it become? A fortress? Or a trap?

Up a few winding stairs and around corners, another corridor, this one with smaller windows and evenly spaced torches casting a flickering light. Gildor stopped "These are the guest rooms. I have the ones at the end to myself, though. You can move in with me or take one of these – they are all empty yet"

'Uh' I was taken aback. I had not considered the question of _rooms _in any way and floundered a bit. I did not feel confident enough _at all _to leave Gildor out of my reach. I had _no _idea what living in Imladris, living in a _room _implied 'I would…uhm…move in with you …if you don't mind…'

Gildor laughed, pushing the door open "Actually I was speculating on you choosing that" he let it fall shut behind me "You don't seem to mind getting up in the morning to get the fire going again"

'No I don't' I glanced around the two rooms. Not large, and no high ceiling– that was good, I did not relish the feeling of sleeping in a hall. Either a nice, small burrow, a cave, or the open sky. The first room included the fireplace, two padded chairs and a wooden table, as well as shelves covering one wall. They were filled with a number of things to half of which I could put no name. The second room was smaller, and furnished with a washstand and two beds. At its further end was a large window with a broad sill, facing one end of the valley, overlooking the gardens and a wilder part of forest. Behind and above that, I saw high stone cliffs. I looked at the slightly dusty shelves. Some held a few books, stacks of loose papers, sealing wax, inkbottles and a selection of pens. Others were filled with glasses, jars and boxes which, by the smell, contained edible things. Obviously Gildor preferred some supplies near even here. One large earthen jug with a stopper was marked "Honey". That was one of the few words I could read and write in Quenya and Sindarin, because the wild honey Niy'ashi and I had sometimes gathered traded well. There were candles and lamp-oil, and a few personal possessions. Carved boxes, uncut gemstones, small figurines of diverse animals and a small quantity of jewellery filled a shorter shelf. I recognized some of the figurines as being rhevain clan-animals. Fox, musk-ox, snake, hawk. But there were others, a horse, a beaver and a finely chiselled wolf, which had not been made by elves. Coming to think of the jewellery, which looked old even to my limited knowledge I realized that Gildor never really wore any of those rings, bracelets or circlets I had seen people sport even tonight. Only the rhevain pendant.

Beside the shelves were pegs on which a scattered array of clothes hung, and a curved iron peg probably meant to hold a sword. My own blade, which I had left with Gildor two years ago, lay carefully wrapped in cloth beside his unstrung bow. So far, this was not vastly different from the cottage. The wolf took it all in quickly and added it to his lair. But for me, these rooms here were upstairs, in a huge building, and I had no chance to slip out into the forest unnoticed. By now I would have known how to get along with the cottage, where it was only Gildor and me. And this place was a much larger scale. The system of this giant amount of people, corridors and windows escaped me utterly. Gildor probably felt the same dividedness for permanent wandering that I felt for living in a permanent housing. The simple _presence_ of so many people in one place grated on me even now, and the watching force he had named "Vilya" was a threat, not a protection.

Gildor twisted out of his sword harness and armour while I inspected the rooms "Hungry?"

I had to smile despite my uncertainty 'Yes'

"Make yourself at home, I'll have a look at what they have at the kitchen" Before the door closed Gildor stuck his head back in, grinning "Remember, wolf, you don't have to mark territory here"

I snarled softly and threw a cushion from the beds at the closing door.

The first night in Imladris was a strange thing. It was not so much the room that bothered me, nor being indoors after two years of constantly open sky above. For the wolf, two years were long. Could I pretend there had been no time between and simply continue on the friendly terms where we had left off? That was what the wolf would do.

Sitting on the window-ledge high above the gardens I looked out over the whole structure of Imladris. In some windows light burned – only for that I knew there were windows. In some of the open corridors torches flickered, in others there were bluish, covered lights. Occasionally someone could be seen walking. Mist was now rising from the bed of the river, but the gardens were deserted. Where I sat, the cold night wind passed comfortably unhindered. Occasionally a bird twittered in the night, but I did not know its name. I knew owls, but this one sounded like a lark, almost but not quite. A lark at night in winter, that was absurd in itself and I knew it was most certainly not a lark. The closed roof took a little getting used to, but the continual wind was what I missed most. What I had missed most even the first night in the cottage in Eregion. For the wolf, the breeze was an ever-present sign of the life around us, bringing news of everything within miles. Inside the hall, even inside this room with the window open the air did not move freely.

Still I was tired. I debated leaving the ledge and going to sleep.

Again.

And again I gave up and turned to look out. I knew that for a while Gildor had doubted I would keep my word and come to Imladris. I felt guilty, uncomfortable, and at a loss.

"What troubles you?" Gildor asked suddenly "Or should I say, what troubles you the most?"

I turned my head slightly but did not look at him. I had not heard him come to stand beside me and was startled 'Either way, I would not wish to answer'

"Heavens Raven, have you lost your voice? We are alone here, you can _talk _instead of mind-speaking"

I looked at him now, genuinely puzzled. I cleared my throat self-consciously "I…did not think of…it" I said hoarsely "The wolf…he has no…he does not… _talk_"

Gildor glanced at me thoughtfully, crossing his arms and leaning on the sill to look out as well "You were wolf the whole two years?"

I nodded mutely, only now realizing just how much unshared things would lie between us this way "You were here – all the time?"

Gildor looked at me strangely for a moment, then laughed softly "Where else should I be? I have had enough wilderness before that to last me through this time"

I was at a loss in reading him. Humour? Accusation? A simple statement? The wolf did not know uncertainties in reading his pack mates. Beasts wore no masks. Gestures and scents were all immediate, not hiding intention or cause behind them.

Two years. That was no time at all for an Eldarin mind. To the wolf, to me, it was a long time. Twice hunting and courting season had passed, two litters of cubs had been born – and even if it was little time for Gildor, so much had happened in _his _world that I could not grasp. I had no idea what life in the valley would be like, let alone what it was like for someone who seemed to belong here. Wolf-concerns did not play much of a role in Imladris business, I suspected. It was hard to bring my mind back to elven thought-lines, so I concentrated on what the wolf perceived and shared with the unfurred part.

Beauty was one thing, though the wolf did not think in terms of fair and foul. Gildor had unravelled the tight warrior's plait and his hair fell freely over his shoulders and back, stirring slightly with the night wind. The reddish-golden colour never failed to fascinate me. Yet, it looked silver without the sunlight.

Kil'tor. The great desert-cats. Nightchaser had told me of them sometimes. When he himself had been very young, he had seen them once. By day – and the days were long and very hot where they lived, without clouds for more than four seasons – their fur was gold and red like the grass there. At night, they were silver-grey shapes. It was strange that Gildor should never have seen the beast whose name he bore in my language. It was strange that the word was almost the same in our languages, though the meaning differed so much.

A silver wolf happened occasionally in the wild, but no Ashi'kha could recall golden ones. In the clan, there had only been one silver, so it was told. And she had been a master of stealth and hunt – she had had to be, because her fur seemed to magically draw arrows and unfriendly eyes in the wild or showed her up to prey day or night. She had been killed before I was born. I had never seen any such shading in my clan where black, brown and rust-coloured dominated. Wolf colours. If he could change, I wondered if he knew what a stunning wolf he would have made.

I pushed the thought away. I wanted to touch him and held back. The wolf did not fight desires. I had very good proof of that. Unfurred did. Alone, without the wolf, I did as well.

Neither did the wolf know or care for the conceits and conventions the elf knew. A touch that carried only tenderness for the wolf could imply much more unintended implication by elven standards. That difference had been largely clear when I had left. But now, it all came down to…the fact that two years are a very long time still. I still knew too little of the Bright Ones' world. When I had told Gildor I considered myself more beast than elf it had not been an exaggeration. And I had proof of that consideration, too, now.

Gildor accepted the wolf. He accepted me. But I and the wolf were not two things. His people always looked for wholeness. To me, furred and unfurred were a whole. Ashi'kha. That was me. But to Gildor's people, there was a line between the two. One could not be the other and remain itself. So what was I to him?

That wolves were not liked was a fact every cub learned the moment his mother first left the den. I knew some of the reasons from the view of the Bright Ones. Wolves hunted the weakest first. They stole sheep when they could get it. Wolves were counted among orcs. They ran with orcs. They fed on the dead and did not hold back from their allies if these got killed. Werewolves were in the service of the dark lord. I could have explained or denied all of these except the last. But I had neither enough words for it nor enough knowledge.

I had missed Gildor. And I longed to touch him, be close to him –.

And Gildor was pretty good at masking himself. Even from the wolf. I could not judge what his feelings or thoughts were at this moment. This was dangerous ground. I held the wolf back firmly, though it seemed to leave me half-blind. This was not his world, nor mine.

"Was it…really bad, Dunland and such?" I asked instead "Why didn't you…complain?"

Gildor shook his head slightly "I did not say it was bad, I said it was enough. For the time. Trust me, I would have complained most loudly if I had been completely fed up with it all. But…does it feel so bad here, with the valley around you now?"

I hesitated "It feels like someone is constantly looking over my shoulder"

"He cannot read your mind" Gildor said after a moment. He did not say all he thought, I sensed, but I felt too tired to try and pry a more elaborate answer from him.

"Come" Gildor pushed himself away from the ledge and took my hands, pulling me off the sill "I won't ask you to sleep, but at least don't sit out there all night. It makes _me_ freeze just to look"

"Then don't"

I went with him still. The wolf either slept alone, curled into a tight ball, or in a heap with his companion to share warmth. A little, I had been wondering what we would do now. After the first few awkward nights in the wild the autumn chill and subsequent winter had made sharing the furs a useful habit. I curled up beside him a little awkwardly now. Neither of us could sleep.

"What did you do, all that time?" he asked after a while.

"Uh-" I hesitated "Wolf-business. If it does not bore you to death I can tell you"

"I have hardly any idea what wolf-business consists of, Raven, at least not from the view-point of a wolf. So?"

For another moment I felt tempted to be frank. And again, I settled on less delicate matters again. Hunt, eat, sleep, play – that were the basics, but certainly not all wolf-life was restricted to. It was just a matter to find words for things that had no name in the wolf's mind.

Gildor's POV

It had given me quite a jolt to see the wolf again tonight. And it had taken all of my control and willpower to face him as if he were a friendly dog. Or as my travelling companion of more than a year ago. Of course I remembered Raven as much as wolf as elf, but still... And he had been with the wolves for the whole past years! That was nothing it seemed I could share in. Or wanted to.

I thought I had better leave him in peace and wait until Raven was too tired to remain on his perch. An untimely push could cause a formidable outburst of temper, whether the situation merited it or not. As I remembered anger blasted Raven's reserve as effectively as dwarven miners blasted stone. A serious clash of our tempers could result in a loud and vicious row. That would not be profitable in Imladris. And neither did I wish to quarrel now. It was enough to have Raven here. We were on unfamiliar ground once more. I did not want to start out with trouble.

At least, I thought, he did not run up and down like a caged wolf. Still, I pushed the covers away and walked to the window to stand beside Raven. Elrond knew I was expecting my companion to come here at one point. He knew of Raven only that he was dark elven. His arrival would set tongues wagging. After all, he shared my rooms. I _never _shared my rooms. Probably Elrond and most others would only see a wild elf, a tattooed barbarian who could not even speak Sindarin. And wonder what Gildor Inglorion found in him. As had been the case with Bearclaw and Silverleaf. Who, after all, definitely spoke Sindarin better than Raven. I could imagine quite a few stares, whispers or downright snobbings coming up. Imladris was small, after all. Well, I could worry about that tomorrow. _Or not at all._

It was not so easy with Silverleaf, but at least in Bearclaw's case I had been comparatively sure how to deal with him here. We were friends. But there had definitely been no attraction between us. It came as something of a shock to find out this. Or rather, I had known, though never acknowledged. Sometimes, I thought wryly, it would have been easier here to announce Silverleaf as my partner than to even let them guess I might be attracted to Raven. He was not even one of the Wild Ones. He was alien, completely and utterly.

They would think twice before challenging me on this. I had nothing to lose here. I would simply leave the valley if things should become uncomfortable. But I had a right to my place here, having been here from the beginning, and I would defend that place to some degree. I had come to think of it like this only lately. Listening to Raven.

And what would Raven do? I could for the life of me not imagine what the dark elf might choose. There were an awful lot of people who could be _interested_.Raven had never said much about friends or lovers. As far as I knew, only his brother had ever meant more to him than simple clan-mates. At one point he had managed to sneak through my carefully constructed and nurtured reserve. And now that I had been forced to acknowledge my attraction to him, what would I feel if he should choose a mate here?

The days passed and so far, Raven did not give any reason for talk except his mere presence. Yet no matter what he did, he did not blend in. Right now, despite the cold day, he wore only a sleeveless vest. My people were mostly too polite to stare, but the tattooed lines were as intriguing to them as they had been to me. Still were – only when Lindir asked what they signified I realized I did not know their meaning. The Ashi'kha tattooed themselves, that I knew. But who, when and why, what traditions, prerequisites or restrictions there were I did not know.

The valley frightened Raven. The houses, the people, the walkways. Not that he ever got lost - his orientation was excellent. But he would avoid a corridor when there were people inside, and instead went the longer way round to avoid them. He settled into the routine of what he called house-living easily enough, observing and taking his cues from me, leaving all arrangements to me without contradiction. He was not fond of clothes, but accepted a simple set of dark scout-clothing readily. That would blend far better into the general clothes than his usual arrangement of rawhide and furs. I took care to find some loose tunics for him when he finally admitted that he felt much more secure with something he could shake off in a moment and turn wolf if ever he had to. The only thing Raven refused quietly but determinedly was shoes. That did not bother anyone so much - he had a number of kindred spirits in that here, especially Arwen.

I tried to see his situation with a stranger's eyes, with a wolf's eyes, tried to understand what I could expect of him and what not. There was no way I could go the usual way, introducing him as I had been able to with the rhevain. He would die of fright if he became the focus of any feast or ceremony. Consequently, staying either with me or by himself, avoiding chances he might get into a conversation, he appeared unapproachable, even arrogant.

He was my shadow until he had become acquainted with the basic whereabouts of the valley. Then he discovered the distribution of duties, and seized on the stables. He was not expected to do anything at all, but he needed something to do, it seemed. The stables were the next safest place as stable-duty was seldom shared.

When I stayed in the valley over the summer Faire tended to forage on her own all over Imladris and only came to the stables when it suited her or she was needed. Now over fall and winter she remained here, and as most who had a horse stabled here I looked after her and her housing by myself. I was not picky about my duties here. I mind-spoke Faire, and Raven took my place on stable-duty, relieved to find something where he could not commit any serious blunder. And we both considered Faire as enough of a security that he would or could go to the stables alone.

There was a group of far-scouts that had returned out of the wild today, and a celebration was planned in their honour. Raven did not relish the thought of a – to him huge - feast, but relied on the curiosity of the wolf. There would be food, and he was hungry, after half a day in the stables all the more. As long as I would go into the Great Hall, so would he.

I watched him fighting with the knots in his still damp hair with amusement. The most Raven ever did with his hair was to tie it back with a leather thong to keep it out of the way when hunting.

"I could braid it for you, you know" I offered lightly "You'd stand out less as well for a change"

I was surprised when he tossed the comb aside in frustration "Please" he said "Before I kick something or cut it off again!"

"You wouldn't" I sat down behind him and started drawing the comb through the tangled strands.

Raven growled "Probably not. As long as you have the patience for this"

"Again?"

Raven shrugged "I cut it when Fingal died. It is part of my people's mourning rituals"

"Shin'a'sha?"

"Hm. As well. What are you doing?" Raven touched the braids gingerly "Are you sure _that _won't make me stand out even more?"

"No. Wait and see. Don't your people braid their hair at all?"

"No" Raven said thoughtfully "Only at special times. And then we usually braid stuff in, feathers and shells and the like. That does not really work in everyday life – whenever we change, the things would get lost, so we don't bother for it"

Braid things in. Over the last moons I had randomly collected feathers of all kinds of birds that lived in and around Imladris, nesting in the steep cliffs. The large ones, especially of hawks and geese, went to the fletchers, and for the rest Feather generally had some use. But elven arrows were not fletched black, so that the corvid feathers had remained. I did not feel quite confident in this and glanced at the cluttered drawer to the side. A simple offer – Raven could not know about the trading custom, after all. Giving myself a mental kick I reached for the drawer and pulled out one of the large raven wing-feathers.

"Things like this?" I asked, holding it over his shoulder.

Raven took it slowly. He glanced at me "Things like this" he confirmed softly, turning the feather thoughtfully "Can you braid that in?" He was shy, for all the world. I could hardly believe it "Yes" I said "Of course"

The first part of the feast went smoothly. We busied ourselves mostly with eating and drinking. Raven was fascinated by the variety of food and the way it was served. I had not thought about that at all. Our two-man travelling-company had functioned so well in everything that the fact that he was essentially a complete stranger to this way of life seldom rubbed itself under my nose. Of course he knew how to use crockery and unobtrusively watched others when he was unsure, but it was only when simple sweet rolls and puddings puzzled him that I got a notion what extent the word 'strange' had for him here.

Despite that he had a very subtle but unmistakeable way to make clear that his loyalty was mine and mine alone. Though he drew a number of curious glances that kept all possible advances at bay, I noted. But I could not decide on the motive behind his actions. He got me into a precariously tight spot that way without realizing. Between Raven and the wolf it was impossible for me to judge clearly where the wolf acted on pack law and saw me as pack leader, and where Raven recognized Elven conventions and acted on them.

He definitely looked striking enough. Knowing how much he would stick out in his usual wild array of patched fur and leather and traded for cloaks it had not been hard work persuading him into foreign garments. There was a more elaborate version of what night-scouts usually wore, something that did not include a long robe or wide sleeves, and he was happy enough to comply in wearing that. There was only the black feather – I had not thought about _that_. Or maybe I had. It was the past, and I knew, and Glorfindel knew it. We had made our peace with that, most certainly. It had seemed just so fitting – I hoped Glorfindel would not draw the logical though sadly incorrect conclusion.

Inevitably, later at night, the old songs came up. I winced inwardly when I recognized the first notes of the lament of Gondolin. We had found a niche away from the main crowd and perched in the cover of the arching wall. I did not want to leave Raven here, but neither did I feel like sitting through the whole song tonight _at all. _Just why could they not just leave this out? How did they get the notion that it had been _glorious_ back then? Fire, smoke, stench and blood, a reek full of screaming, that was what I remembered of the moments that had inspired the lament. Well, that was why I was not a minstrel, probably. I caught Glorfindel's wry glance as I quietly slipped out of the main hall to wait it out. He sat with Elrond and could hardly absent himself politely right now. Once outside the hall, I could not stay indoors either. I went through the garden-door and across the dark grounds towards the stables. I might as well bring Faire the apple I had carried around with me this whole evening. Somehow, I had never been hungry enough to eat it. Or never found the time.

Raven's POV

I frowned slightly, but only nodded when Gildor mind-spoke me briefly. I had to concentrate hard on the Quenya words to follow the recounting of events. I knew what had happened from my father's point of view, but Hurondil's knowledge of Eldarin history ended with his flight from Gondolin. Some of the names rang a bell, but one main piece fell into place only near the end of the song.

I bit my lip. I glanced over at Glorfindel – and met the Elda's knowing stare. So they had both been there. Hurondil had not named the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower – this song did. Then it was him. He must have had…returned. That also solved the strange feeling of power. The wolf was within time, but did not count it as _passing. _For him, the _returning_ was the measure, not the dwindling of an indeterminable future. And the wolf was firmly in the _world. _

And Glorfindel was not. Neither within time, nor within space. He was not concerned with passing time either. Not as Gildor was anyway. The wolf told me this, but could not explain it either. For Gildor, time passed, and yet did not pass, so it seemed to me at least. And so it felt to the wolf. Glorfindel's power was as natural to him as the change was to my own people. And his kind of power did not feel threatening as did Elrond's. The song was long, and Gildor did not return. When it ended I gathered my courage and slipped out of the nook I had occupied. There were pillars along the wall of the hall, and behind them it was shadowy, and empty. I used that safe pathway towards the doors, and slipped out with others that left after the song. I tracked Gildor to the stables by once more following the wolf's intuition.

He leaned against the door to Faire's stall, picking out straw from her mane.

"Finished their singing?" he asked when I came inside. I nodded and sidled over to them. Fairё nudged me heartily, and I shoved her head aside before she knocked me off my feet "You never told me you were in Gondolin"

Gildor glanced at me sharply "What makes you think I were?"

"One" I said carefully "You recognized Thorn – Anguirel, that is. You did not say the name, but…Well, you recognized it. Two, you know Glorfindel _very _well. Three, you speak like father. There are words you use in Quenya that I now know were only used in that city. Four, you quietly slipped the scene when they started out on the First Age. And you?" I looked at Fairё who stared back darkly "I bet you were there as well, my lady"

Gildor chipped paint from the door "Nice conclusion"

"Were you?"

"We were"

Gildor pushed himself away from Faire's door.

"Where are you going?"

"The top of the tower. Come with me if you fancy a climb"

I followed him out of the stables and through the door leading into the library tower "What's up there?"

"Nothing. Just a good view"

Supposedly. The winding stair seemed to drag on forever. I glanced out of the several small windows we passed uncomfortably. Mountain heights were much more reassuring, I thought, compared to the knowledge that here only wood and stone and a mason's skill were between me and a long way down. We came out on the tower's top through a latch which fell open with a solid _chunk_ of wood against stone. A waist-high wall surrounded the circular, empty space. Near the bottom the wall was broken through regularly so rain-water would not collect. Gildor breathed a sigh of relief and leant on the battlement to look out over the valley below. "This is the one place in Rivendell proper where you can be sure to run into no one. Except if there is something fascinating going on in the skies, which is not very often"

I glanced at the thick wall suspiciously before leaning on it. There _was_ a spectacular view from here, though still the surrounding cliffs towered above the highest point of the buildings. The whole valley and the winding river could be seen "What is this place?"

"Observatory"

"What!"

"For watching the stars" Gildor leaned over the wall and looked down into the yard far below before shifting his gaze to the dark woods climbing up the surrounding mountains.

"I can watch the stars from any place" I said. I had no idea what he meant by observatory except that it had to do something with the sky, but I mainly tried to bait him. Gildor only shrugged.

"Why did you never _say_ you were there, in Gondolin?" I ventured.

"What is Gondolin to you?" Gildor asked testily.

"Nothing" I answered truthfully "But you are"

Gildor snorted softly.

"It was part of my life. A great chunk" he said at length.

"Then why do you never mention it?" I persisted.

"Other than that those times went up in smoke and flame and blood there is no reason" Gildor snapped "Didn't your father ever tell you why he fled in the first place? How the city fell?"

"Of course he did. But I want to hear your version"

Gildor only sniffed.

"The same happened to Eregion" I pointed out relentlessly "But you never get so snappish when I ask about Eregion"

"Eregion was different. Utterly different" Gildor pushed himself up to sit on the wall, ignoring the vast drop below. He turned to face the pleasantly cold night-wind "I don't want to go back to the Hall of Fire"

"Neither do I" I watched him, looking away from me "So why? Why was it different? There were about as many people slain then as when Gondolin fell"

Gildor stared at me "Why are you being so pesky tonight, dark elf?" he asked angrily.

I frowned, wondering what had turned his mood. I settled down on the floor, leaning back against the wall and squinting up at him "You know, you always keep asking _me _for answers, and I daresay you know all about my oh-so-interesting life of orc-hunting and shadow-skulking, but what do I know of _you_? You give me facts, and that's it. Well, aside from what you told me about Silmarusse"

"Be glad I told you that" Gildor muttered.

"It's not my fault that the city was betrayed, is it? Neither that you are having a problem getting along with your life"

I knew that was unfair. One look into his cold blue eyes also told me I was perilously close to more than a verbal smack. I had seldom managed to anger him so much. He never allowed his rage to blaze out. He got icy cold instead.

"I'm sorry" I muttered. Gildor shook his head. For a long while, there was only the thin whine of the wind whistling through the holes in the wall.

"It was different" Gildor forced himself to say finally "Because I never allowed myself to feel much for the place. After Gondolin, I guess I had kind of learned. Nothing we would build here would ever last. Eregion was too much like Gondolin. It was only a question of time until it would fall, through whoever's fault, and maybe without anyone's. And fall it did…I did not want to go to Gondolin at first. I only went with those going there as guard, scout, whatever. I did not decide until the last moment. I found a place there, somehow. I liked it there. We were…confident, I suppose. No one expected assault, ever…It is deadly to bind your heart to something"

Or someone. I did not say that, but I could hear the unspoken rest of Gildor's words. Who then? Silmarusse was dead at that time. Well, it did not matter, not to me. What mattered was…well, he was here now. And damn hard to get to.

"It was your home" I said.

"Home. You know how to spell that?" He looked as if regretted the words even as he said them, but I only shrugged "As well as you do. Only my home is not one single place and I know it still exists. Wolf clan's land. Yet. If Nightchaser is right – and he always is – we are in for trouble with everyone and everything soon"

Up here, few sounds came from below. I got up and leant on the wall again. I would not have _sat_ on it. A thick iron-shod log stuck out of the wall, with nooks and rings to pull chains or ropes through. I found it odd I knew that this was a pulley. I could not remember when or where I had seen a device like that before. It must have been one of the few occasions Fingal and I had actually entered one of the traders' villages. Half the things in Rivendell I could not name, yet this log and chain construction that was obviously out of use for years.

The sky was a deep dark blue that seemed to glow of itself. Stars glittered coldly, but I felt more attracted by the vast stretch of forest I could see from here almost from a bird's vantage. It must be strange, I thought, not to run through forest but to fly _over_ the trees. To fly as Nightchaser said he did when he was with the Hawk.

Still, I was grateful for the solidity of the stones between me and thin air. I glanced at the log, wondering what the person did who had the unhappy task of checking or readying the device for use.

"You know" I said when Gildor remained silent "It is weird – there one goes dreaming of flying, but nothing could make me step out onto that thing"

Just to say something. I did not know really why I spoke, and judging by Gildor's foul mood I did not expect a reaction.

"_You_ dream of flying?" Gildor asked after a while.

I glanced at him. For a moment I could not decide if there was mockery in the remark or only puzzlement.

"Don't you ever? Or don't you people dream?" I knew very well they did. He had his nightmares, sometimes, but I was wise enough not to address that. After all, he left me in peace as well. I was not good for such talk. My words were a challenge, derisive.

He shrugged "And is it black wings that carry you?"

"No" I said truthfully. He had passed the challenge by. It was my turn to explain a little "They are not _vach'khan_ dreams. Just dreams. I am not Raven because of that. I am much the same as I am now when I 'fly'"

"_Vach'khan_?"

"Holding power. True dreams. Shaman dreams" I closed my eyes and turned my face to the wind as well. It carried all kinds of scents, mostly traces from the forests and cliffs around us, a fresh breeze carrying the smell of river-water, the scent of frost in the air. I missed Nightchaser. Mostly, I missed K'ashi. Sometimes, it was unbearable, being here, alone. I would not be here but for Gildor. I was here because of him. He tried to understand. But even to him, I still remained as foreign as he to me.

"Nightchaser _is _the hawk when he dreams" I said softly "And sometimes, the hawk flies _with_ him. When he is the hawk, he can fly and see the lands he knows – see them as they are. But when the hawk flies with him, it can take him to see lands he has never seen in waking life. The hawk can show him those lands as they are at the moment of dreaming – he can show danger, he warns us. And he flies to them and back, so that he knows where they are in relation to where he is at the moment. Those are _vach'khan_ dreams" I paused "When I dream, it is ordinary dreams. I only see what my mind makes up. And I am not…I am nothing specific – except a wolf. But you can see that that is nothing special. Not for me anyway"

Gildor watched the silent flight of an owl, gliding from one of the many nooks and recesses in the high tower.

"I don't know much about them, but the north-men say similar things about their dreams. Common ones and sacred ones, that is" he said after a while "They…have a rule for their warriors…only those who have dreamed of a special animal may claim its name for themselves. And its powers"

"Well, I am not a raven when I dream" I said with a crooked smile "Bad luck among the north-men for me, is it?"

Gildor smiled briefly "Not if you give them a performance of turning wolf, though"

"Probably not. But at least I could claim a wolf-name. I am wolf in my dreams"

"Always?"

"Mostly"

"Well, my own dreams could use both hawk and wolf, I think. They might be a little more cheerful then" he said, turning to descend the tower. Now _he_ spoke derisively. I stared after him a moment before following him. That song tonight had put some things into perspective. Time, especially. There must be a time Gildor remembered, I realized, when all these buildings had not even been raised here. And that already was long after Gondolin. It was very strange to think of that. And obviously, it made for dark moods.

In this deep valley the nights were bitter cold. Frost rimed everything each morning, but vanished until midday where the sun reached. No snow fell yet, but sometimes the tops of the high cliffs were white. After long days of cold rain a thin winter sun came out again. I went to the training grounds with Gildor one morning, while the area was still empty. We had spent the past days mostly inside, and I was glad for the outlook on a good work-out.

There was talk of trouble, of small border wars and skirmishes massing in the lands. I followed the news through Gildor, and I knew he felt cut off in the valley. He would join the fighting should Imladris decide to send forces to the one or other trouble. Which did not keep him from sparring only half-heartedly this morning. I did not know what had happened, but Gildor was definitely not in a brilliant mood again. As always, I thought in irritation, he did not let his obvious frustration out and instead made a point of bottling it up carefully. He was aware hewould drive _me_ mad with that. I tried to break his reserve by fighting especially dirty, but failed miserably. He flatly ignored the riling.

I knew Gildor was stronger than me when he wanted to, and I snarled in irritation when I had him on the ground the third time in this sparring session. My own reserve snapped.

"Stop this fooling. You can do better than this" I growled, biting every word in the Black Speech off with exaggerate pronunciation. Gildor's eyes flared and I could feel his instinctive furious desire to retaliate this desecration. It still did not suffice to break the cold reserve.

"Are you an Orc, Dark Elf?" Gildor spat softly "_You _can do better than this!"

"No, you can" I grappled with him "You wanted to go with the next troop the valley sends, you'll have to remember fighting like a warrior before that"

"I am _not _a warrior"

I blinked, puzzled. Now what was that about!

I grabbed Gildor's wrists and pinned them to the ground before he could evade me. Gildor twisted and bucked me off, snarling.

"See?" I let him go, satisfied "Why do you pretend otherwise?"

"Don't lecture me on pretending" Gildor got up and retrieved his sword of which I had divested him earlier in the fight "And don't you dare do that again"

I shrugged "If that's the only way to get you into action"

"You value your life, don't you?" Gildor hissed, pausing in sheathing his sword to put emphasis on the threat "Leave it be"

"You tell me again that I am acting curiously"

He took a step towards me. I backed up. I had been terrified of him in the beginning. Most of that had faded. But right now, there was only cold, barely contained fury. I held up my hands a little"Alright, alright, peace. If you don't want to fight, at least let us _walk, _or I am going to burst"

We walked past the houses once more and climbed the terrace path.

"Since when do you know _that _tongue?" Gildor asked when he had cooled down somewhat.

"I know enough for a challenge. And you obviously understand just as well"

Gildor looked at me darkly "I understand. But I do not speak it"

"That depends"

"Raven, I warn you-"

"What!" I spread my arms "what have I done now, hm?"

"Nothing yet. But you are incredibly reckless"

"And you are incredibly bitchy! Did you quarrel with Glorfindel?"

Now that was a fine hit.

"Raven" Gildor snarled and grabbed my arm, jerking me back "Give me one reason why I should tolerate this insolence from you"

"You only blow up when I am right"

For a moment Gildor looked as if he was going to strike. Then he only snarled "Dream on" He did not push me away, but only barely. I rubbed the red marks on my arm and gave up trying to tickle information out of him. _A secret for a secret._ I had hardly revealed any of mine. I did not have much right to expect an answer. And I had no desire, I decided, to witness the one time he would lose control of that fury he was bottling up as diligently as dwarves nursed their beer-barrels.

16


	40. Chapter 40 Rivendell PT2

**Rivendell II**

Raven's POV

Rivendell made me wish I could turn wolf and follow the winding corridors, stairs, bridges and terraces with the help of scent and spoors. I never got properly lost in the wide-flung buildings clinging to the steep cliffs but I often took involuntary detours. The tiled floors, foreign statues and often abstract murals did not provide the sort of landmarks I could easily map. What I could navigate most easily were the open terraces that led to the rooms important for me. Though the route across the bridges and pillared walk-ways was usually longer and in cold and wet weather not the most pleasant I preferred it. That way I could avoid the strongly frequented corridors and halls. The wolf prefers territory and so I had quickly marked out the important parts and passes of the valley with his help. I could find comparatively unused passages between the stables, kitchens, our rooms, the library and the gardens. On my own, I avoided the Great Hall and the bathhouses, except if it was a time of day or night when very few people were there.

The main bathhouses were run by circulated duty, which meant, I discovered, that there was always fire-wood, water and towels provided for and you did not have to clean up after yourself. But then there were, on the lower level of the main buildings, earlier versions of the great bathhouses, small stone-rooms that were connected to outside cisterns, and not very often used. Here you had to make your own fire to heat water and empty and clean the tub when you were finished. I much preferred that version, mostly because it saved me from odd looks and the danger of conversation if I went to the main bathhouses.

Gildor also showed me the large ways and smaller paths out and around the valley so I could escape the bustle of the houses when I wished. The main-path across the bridge directly adjoining the great courtyard and the stables led zig-zagging steeply upwards out of the valley. There were plenty occasions where one could leave the path and disappear into the wild forest and look down at the houses and bridges of the opposite cliffs. Behind the forge a thin path led up into the cliffs of the house-side. These were steeper and sheerer than those of the other side, and I preferred to take that route. At the start the small path was well-trodden and after a while it forked to lead once around the whole valley. This was the way the scouts used to get to their posts and took on the few horsed patrols they led. Most scouting was done on foot and outside the paths. But where the path forked a much thinner trail led up further into the cliffs until it vanished in the raw stones. Several shelves at various heights could be reached from there, and so far exploration of that side of the valley kept me busy. I reserved those trips for the times when Gildor was occupied elsewhere and I had neither stable-duty nor anything else to do. He had, I gathered, refused to lead a scout-patrol of his own and instead joined an existent one. I could sympathize with the refusal to lead, but wondered why Gildor should be bothered by that. If there was anyone I considered a suitable leader it was him. But as night-scout and occasionally far-scout he was back at the valley more often than as captain, so I would most certainly not question anything of that. Even more so since I knew that the next time his patrol would be on duty or he would be asked to scout beyond the Rim I could go with him. Still, he had to attend the scout-meetings and plan their schedule, which took more time than I would have anticipated. In the clan, either the shaman, K'ashi or Koth'nakira as leader of the scouts and hunters respectively would ask for a handful of people willing to go out, go now, and it would be done. Here, lists and plans were drawn, routes distributed, and times for starting and return fixed. I committed the schedules to mind just to know when Gildor would be there and when not, but otherwise waited for him to pass on new plans. He would have taken me to the scouts' meetings and included me in the planning but I dared not.

As it was early winter, it was, at least for unfurred, cold, wet and windy. I had stayed unfurred for long times before, but now, knowing I _could_ not change here, I longed for the wolf with an ache that surprised me. Not only for the comfort of thick fur, a light, sinuous body and easy mind, but also for his calm. I was used to days that were filled with things that _had_ to be done if you wanted to live comfortably when unfurred. Now that I knew fire I liked it, though I preferred to be in control of whatever flames were near. So the days, or nights, depending what I wished to do, usually began with gathering new firewood, a trek to the nearest brook for water and a wash, and a brief meal. Then, if the season allowed it I would have to start gathering plant-things, and if not, I would hunt. I had to tan hides, twist sinew for bow-strings, make arrow-heads, shafts or other tools. There were no empty parts to the circle of nights and days. Here, with the day- or night-filling care for food out of my hands I had to scrabble for things to keep me from getting mad. To some degree it was a relief to sleep when and how long I wanted, with all the comfort and the amenities of the valley at my disposal, but it was strange and left me feeling even more out of place. The surroundings, the awareness of the people around kept me wary and alert whether I wanted it or not. Only when I retreated into the wolf's mind could I find calm and rest, and sleep without disturbing dreams.

At least it was easy to adjust what I knew and was used to to the way of the valley. Sometimes I felt it would be good to be wolf, block out the cutting wind with comfortable fur, but then the practicality of the wolf won over. If I had the opportunity of warm dry rooms, why should I face the weather? It was much more comfortable to remain inside and watch whatever Gildor was doing. He explained the pictures and murals running along the corridors freely, but I refrained from probing for his personal attachment to the events shown. And I was careful not to mention Gondolin again if Gildor did not happen to touch on that time himself. Maybe if I waited until I had a comparatively extensive picture of Eldarin history some things would explain themselves or he would betray answers by small reactions whose meaning I could not place correctly yet. So far, we found it a good way to exchange bits of information trading like with like. It was easier than I had expected to tell more of wolf clan. I noticed Gildor was keeping to the same policy I did, seldom asking for my personal attachment to whatever customs or events I mentioned.

Also, we were in the library quite often. He was in charge of the maps, and I used the time to explore the uncountable books in the spiralling shelves that covered three storeys. Of course I could not read them properly, but still the things intrigued me. At first I thought Gildor was only ordering the stacked and rolled up maps, but then found that he was sorting out damaged and faded ones to make new copies of them. He did the same with the detailed maps heavily used by the guards and scouts that showed the valley and the adjacent lands. I watched, fetched maps and drawing supplies, and pinned papers to wooden boards so the would keep straight while being worked on, but still it took me several rainy days to realize that he was not copying someone else's ancient work but his own. Most of the maps did without names, but the larger ones included them. I puzzled over the script which made no sense if I added the sounds I had learned from my father to the letters Gildor used.

There were small booths that ringed the inner side of the library's main room on each storey which were used for reading, writing or copying things in peace. According to their size they held a wooden table and some chairs, as well as nooks in the wall where unfinished pieces could be left. We were in the one Gildor occupied with his stack of maps when a runner brought a small notice. I had curled up in the round window with one of the smaller maps of the valley and watched a grimly satisfied smile dawn on Gildor's face.

"What's that about?"

"Read for yourself" he passed the notice to me, and I took it slowly, turning it right side up. I could make out a few words, but faced the same problem as with the names on the maps.

"I cannot read that" I said finally, holding the paper out to him. This once he must have misjudged my reaction because he looked chagrined "You…I'm sorry, I didn't think-"

I shook my head, passing the paper back to him "I drove Niy'ashi mad when he taught me writing. But I have never seen these symbols. And it is Sindarin as well, I assume"

"It says only that there will definitely be a few forays next spring, after snow-melt. Whoever wants to go can report to Faranaur or Glorfindel who organise the groups"

"Forays?" I asked hopefully "And will you go?"

"Definitely. If we join one of the smaller groups, it will be easy for you to come as well. I don't think you enjoy the idea of going with the mounted ones. And they would not have you come fighting without armour as you do"

I shrugged. That would probably always remain a point of argument between us. Alright, Gildor's armour had merits, but I hated wearing stiff leather-plates. And I would have been unable to change.

A few days later a thin snow had started falling, driven by a cold wind. Everything was covered with a white crust and the less used corridors and open walkways were freezing. Gildor had put the map-business back in order to teach me reading and writing, which provided us not only with a time-consuming occupation but also a number of unexpected laughs. Quills were frail and impractical, either giving off great blobs of ink or scratching and drying up. I managed to break two of those until Gildor thought of giving me some of the graphite and coal pens he used for drawing. They were much more solid, produced a smooth, even line, and did not blotch. I found it easy to draw the symbols and write words, but the reverse, to see the symbols and remember what sound they signified, was more difficult. Gildor grinned and suggested next he could give the scout-reports to me for copying. If I could not read them I would not fall asleep over the boring contents. Seeing another chance for occupation I thought the idea had some merit still. I learned a considerable number of words that way, most of which required laborious explanations on Gildor's part – Ashi'kha had no equivalents for justice, candelabra or dais. He quickly realized we had better start out with things that had words in both our languages.

If the weather was not incredibly foul we deferred those sessions to the outside, exchanging plant-names, beast-names, words for different parts of both as well as for weapons. I would never have dreamed of expecting him to learn a word Ashi'kha, but the teaching did not long remain one-sided. It was a curious feeling for me that he voluntarily would not only learn words of my language but actually use the phrases he asked for. By midwinter, I still puzzled with the reading but we could lead small conversations completely in Ashi'kha. At first it had always startled me to hear the familiar sounds in so strange an environment, but then it made me feel less and less isolated. And I felt even closer to Gildor for his efforts. I knew I was making a mess of many Quenya and Sindarin words with the sharp accent of Ashi'kha, but he never addressed that or told me to be more careful except when a word was only distinguished from another by hard or soft voicing. And he asked me to pronounce the Ashi'kha words he knew over and over so he could write them down for reference. I found it amusing when as a result I could not read my own language except with much puzzling over the symbols and sounds. Then I arrived at a word I knew, and only then realized that this was the first time ever that Ashi'kha had been written, and in Quenya symbols.

I watched him puzzling with some symbols he tried to assign to Ashi'kha sounds for a while, thinking of the murals in the corridors. Everything here was constantly worked on, repaired, expanded, just as the small stack of maps that currently sat on the desk. He made things much more practically – arrows, arrow-heads, pouches, things we used in our travels.

"You don't _make _anything, do you?" I asked cautiously "I mean, the way your people here make things. Jewellery and all that stuff, fancy boxes-. Except your maps and paintings, and you don't show those to anyone"

He looked up from his shifting through papers with rows of symbols that signified Ashi'kha words, giving me a long glance.

"What's the use?" he said then "There are enough artisans here that I don't have to add anything"

"Why not?" I persisted when he did not snap outright "Don't you want to? After all, you…you just wrack your brain to write down my words in symbols that I cannot read my own language!"

He laughed softly, but then said "I need that for my own reference. You have no idea how _weird _your language's sounds are"

"I could say the same of yours" I said wryly.

"Say that word for _oak_ again. Slowly"

I sighed "_Shin'nor_. You know you make things very much Ashi'kha way? It is all things you _use_, even if you add fancy carvings. And by now you make them as my people do. I suppose you are the only one here who sometimes uses flint arrowheads"

"Maybe. What was _branch _again?"

"_Noriar_. You avoid an answer"

"Yes. What was _rock_? _Hinyan_ or _hintek_?"

I grinned "Tell me why you…well, why you do this? Hunting orcs, travelling, while you could make maps here?"

"I do it because I _want_ to. And I make maps because they are of some _use_. And so is travelling and orc-hunting. _Hinyan_ or _hintek_?"

"_Hintek_ is a small stone, _he_ is a whole mountain. _Arahe_ is a small mountain, a hill. _Hinyan_ is a hoot-owl. They ask you why I am here"

I watched him note down some words, cross out, write again. When he did not answer I leaned forward and caught his hand "Don't they?"

Gildor glared at me "Yes"

I released him "And what do you say?"

He smiled sweetly "I tell them to mind their own business"

"Ah…"

"_Hintekra_?"

"Little stones. _Sand_. You walked _shin'a'sha_ with me"

Gildor stopped writing again "I said I would"

"You broke more of your people's laws. For me. A wild notion of mine"

"I…had that same wild notion when Silmarusse was killed" he said "There is nothing like some sort of security, is there?"

I hesitated. I could have spoken about a quite different sort of security in other matters but refrained "I suppose" I said at length.

We had just packed up our things and left our library-booth when a small group of elves came into the hall, arguing softly. One of them hailed Gildor "If that isn't luck, Gildor we need your help. You know some orcish, don't you?"

Glorfindel was there, too, but I did not know the others. My first impulse was to slip back into the booth, but Gildor held me back "Most certainly not. And you need not hide from _them_" he whispered. I saw that differently, but had no choice now but to stay. They had a slip of greasy and soot-stained paper with them, which was I finally saw, covered in orcish runes. They placed it on a table and we crowded around. As they were all taller than I and I did not want to push to the front I did not see much.

"Faranaur's far-scouts chased orcs beyond the Rim two days ago, but never got them" the one who had hailed Gildor explained "They returned to the deserted camp from where they had chased them, and found a scroll there. This is what was in it, but of course we can't say if they are new orders or already long outdated"

Glorfindel pointed at two runes "I know that one means _chief_ or _captain_. We suppose that these are _mountain_ and _cave_ and stand for Moria. It would then come down to something like _the captain is ordered to be in Moria_"

"I know that this signifies one of their troops" another elf, night-scout by the black clothing, put in "It usually means a small group of about ten. The captain is ordered to bring his group"

Gildor stared at the paper for a while "This one is…_ago_, or _passed, gone_. And the other two could mean _dark _and _devour_…no, wait, _devourer_, it's a noun. This one is a number…_three_, I think. It would mean _three times the dark-devourer passed _– whatever that means"

"Maybe a title? One of their great captains? Sauron himself would hardly be called on as devouring the dark-"

"No, certainly not" Glorfindel agreed. I tried hard to listen because they spoke Sindarin. Gildor's lessons were already paying off because I understood most of what was said. The puzzling went on a little, then I plucked up my courage and moved to stand beside Gildor for a look at the parchment.

"My" he said suddenly "I am dense. Can't you make something of this, Raven?"

"I can" I said after a breathless moment that froze me in irrational shock at being addressed in front of all these strange elves. I dared not take up the paper because my hands shook and so I only turned it around on the table. I had sneaked through orc-caves long enough with Niy'ashi that these symbols were less hard to read than a Quenya poem.

"But I can only translate it into Quenya. It is…I don't know Moria, but you say it means Black Pit, and this means _black cave under mountain_, yes. The whole reads…_Korgul, chieftain of the long-fangs: Skarka scout-captain is ordered to bring his group in…into Moria before_…_the snow falls_. _The_…this would mean _door_, or _opening_…_is shut when the night-eater has passed three times from then_"

"It is far outdated then" the one who had hailed Gildor said with some disappointment "It has been snowing for a long time. Faranaur said the orcs eluded them in the snowdrifts near the gate-stream, where their horses foundered in the covered cracks"

"That is…the most fascinating demonstration of orcish reading I have had up to now" Glorfindel said slowly.

"I have to make up for not being able to read Quenya" I said, only then realizing it might not be proper to speak that way to an obviously higher ranking individual here.

One of the others laughed "You teach him your sharp tongue, too, Gildor?"

"You better tell me what made their camp so special that they had written orders" Gildor returned "And a scroll-case this size seems strange-"

"Their wargs carry these things" I said, managing to sound neutral "There are two hoops to fasten it to a…collar"

Gildor glanced at me sharply, but mercifully did not pursue the subject.

"But there were no wolf-tracks" someone objected.

"No. The orders must have been issued long enough before the snow fell. Otherwise would have been a bit…useless"

"Sounds logical, but what makes you sure it is 'Nighteater'?" Glorfindel asked "That goes beyond mere translation"

The wolf did not tell you when it would have been better to lie "My people call the sun by the same name" I said.

Everyone around the table turned to stare at me. My heart missed a beat. I dropped my gaze to the table and inwardly kicked myself. I could feel Gildor beside me taking a breath.

"And what is the word in your language?" he asked then, ignoring the others.

"_Roch'ir_" I said softly "But it means just the same"

"That place you live is near to Mordor, isn't it?" someone asked.

Gildor shot a sharp look at him "Think well what you are implying, Rawegil"

"I imply nothing, Gildor" the scout returned.

"It would be about four of your weeks for us from the winter-camp" I forced myself to say "Five, from the summer-camp. And several moons from where we are when we stay further east. Less, would we make for it with a will. We do not go there. Its inhabitants come to us"

"You have trouble with orcs in the far east?"

I glanced at Glorfindel and shrugged uncomfortably "Sometimes"

I wondered if there passed some sort of signal between him and Gildor, but he only nodded and then picked up the notice "Well, they are out of reach now. In the winters here even the orcs don't venture out. Come on, you scouts, we have the next patrol to organize"

Gildor breathed a small sigh of relief when we were left alone again "Do yourself a favour, Raven, and do _not _tell them such things yet"

7


	41. Chapter 41 Treating with Orcs

**Treating with Orcs**

around TA 2940

Gildor's POV

Raven and I developed the habit of staying in the valley roughly one year over the other. The compromise suited us better than expected, and even the winters in the wild were, once we had made out a handful of suitable locations, no longer the drag I feared them to be. On our own, we spent spring and early summer travelling from one camp to the next, usually hunting smaller groups of orcs. Late summer and autumn we drifted towards our chosen cave and like squirrels hurriedly began to lay up supplies. Generally what we had gathered got us well through the snow-season. Raven regularly provided us with smaller prey even in deep winter, and together we also went for deer and sometimes mountain-sheep. I was used to the wild wolf-packs going out of my way when I travelled, but Raven often called them to us, or they came looking when we passed through their territory. Each year we stayed in the valley we usually joined the small companies that went from Rivendell to hunt orcs on their own, or the far-scouts that regularly patrolled the vicinity of Eregion or the High Pass. That routine worked well until the tales and reports of trouble and servants of the shadow in the eastern lands began to abound. The small human villages between Mirkwood and the mountains were repeatedly harassed by orcs. They received help from Dale, but obviously not enough, and so at one point petitions for help came to Imladris. There were enough who were willing to go, and Elrond sent out a small force in answer.

We had just come over the High Pass and turned southeast when we ran into the orcs at midday. Raven had been restless for a while but been unable to place the feeling. Then the scouts burst back into the line, announcing a group of about fifteen orcs, coming towards us. Glorfindel rounded us at a gallop, hissing orders from Asfaloth's back. We formed ranks quickly, and then one of the pack horses sprang a trap. The net had been spanned across the forest floor and surged up with a rush of foliage and debris, spooking the horse and frightening many of the others. Of course the orcs heard, and were ready for battle in seconds. We had archers and horses, the orcs were on foot and had no bows. There was a moment of terse silence, orcs and Elves staring at each other, measuring the odds. Fifteen large orcs in well-tended, almost clean leather armour, armed with scimitars, swords and long knifes. The leader's face was painted half black half red, and a thick, snarled mane of black hair was tied back into a tail. His glance quickly swept our ranks, then returned to Glorfindel. The other orcs all bore the sign of some beast's paw on their armour. Thirty of us. I waited for Glorfindel's quiet order to attack.

Raven was on foot beside Fairё, his sword in both hands. We were in the front row together since he had flatly refused my order to stand back with the other fighters on foot. I heard him suck in his breath suddenly, and Raven took a step forward to come level with Fairё's head. I just wanted to order him back in earnest when the orc leader moved forward as well. He raised one gloved hand "I speak" he demanded in rough Common. I sensed the drawn bows behind me, but for some wild reason everyone still accepted the offer of parley. No one shot without Glorfindel's order. It would have been their final day in any force Glorfindel led.

The orc said something else and there was a moment of silence. Slowly, the words in the black speech registered with us. With me at any rate, though some looked blank.

"Our force is great and well equipped. You will have no easy victory. Or none at all" That seemed like a taunt, an absurd remark, yet no one laughed. Neither could anyone present actually answer in that tongue. We understood, but to speak it was to try and breathe backward. It did not work. Glorfindel and Raven moved at the same time, but Glorfindel held his horse back when he saw the dark elf's motion, giving Raven a scathing glance.

'_Damn, Raven -' _I remembered very well suddenly that Raven _spoke_ this language. The orc leader's eyes fell back on Raven, and I saw his eyes narrow. I felt for my knife and held it lightly in my hand, ready to fling it. Both sides were stunned into silence when Raven returned a harsh answer in the same tongue "You will remember that everything that counts is hate, chieftain. Our hate equals yours. _Mine_ does"

The orcs muttered behind their leader's back, and a whisper of sound went through the rows of the elves.

"We are a force of ten times ten" the orc snarled "Coming up from the south. In the valley behind us - ahead for you. I do not lie, wolf-skin"

Raven stared at the orc, glanced at Glorfindel, and turned back to the orc.

"Well?" he asked.

The orc bared his fangs "Turn. And we have not seen each other" A terse reply, more of a growl.

There was a sudden uproar in the orcs' groups, quelled by a snarled command from the leader.

Gildor, what the hell? Glorfindel's mind-voice rang in my head. I do not know

I directed a sharp sending at the dark elf 'Raven'

He turned around and stared at me "Back. Order them back. We must not go south"

Glorfindel's stallion came to a halt in front of Raven and Faire "What are you playing at, dark elf?"

"Back" Raven repeated, breathless, taking a step back from Asfaloth and bumping into Faire and me "We _must not_ go south"

"Do you treat with orcs!-" Glorfindel snapped, disbelief making his voice sharp Gildor!

I hesitated only a second "Belief him. Now. Order retreat, and let us go the wide way round"

For a moment Glorfindel stared at me as if I had lost my mind. For a moment, I was sure I had. I knew it was only the long time we knew each other that made Glorfindel act now. His orders were sharp and in a no-nonsense tone. I wondered if anyone would actually oppose him, whether now or when we stopped to rest.

We turned and followed Glorfindel's lead, the archers getting to their own horses or riding pillion with someone who simply was handy at the moment. The orc shouted something over the rumble of hooves. I could not understand what it was. Probably an insult. Cursed speech.

Raven whirled and stared after the disappearing orcs.

"Here" I snapped when he did not move. I nudged Fairё forward and pulled the stunned-looking dark elf up in front of me as Fairё fell into a gallop.

We stopped after a long day's ride through pathless forest. The horses were tired, and so were their riders. There had been no time to question Glorfindel's orders, and so far as I could judge, there would not be yet.

It was one thing to leave a large group of orcs be, when the risk was too great. But that had been a small group, about fifteen. So it had looked. We had only Raven's word for it that it had been more, much more than we would have been able to handle without loss. Sometimes, as we had struggled through the underbrush today and seen not a single sign of orcs even I had half doubted his word. And _I _knew him.

There were dark looks directed at Raven, and he was tensed. And not only because he had just ridden half on Faire's neck for more than a day. I glared back at the watchers. Maybe Raven was better off not getting caught without me for a while. Not because I had any worry he would get harmed in a possible quarrel, but the wolf tended to settle verbal conflicts rather…direct. It wouldn't do for him to pound someone into the dust here for a few heated words.

There was a small mountain lake and we set up camp at its banks quickly. Watchers were positioned, and this night and the next day were planned for a rest. We would meet our own armed conflict when we arrived and had better turn up there rested.

The lake was cold, but any water was better than none at all. I took the first night-watch with Raven, and afterwards we made straight for the lake. Dawn was not rainy today and the sun rose slowly over the dark fir woods. It did little to actually warm the air, but the appearance of sunlight alone seemed warming. I peeled off my clothing and weighed the pile down with my sword. Naturally Raven was quicker undressing but when I turned to the water he still crouched at the lake's edge, staring across the still water with wide eyes.

"Are you seeing ghosts?" I went to sit beside him.

"Wish I would" Raven murmured without turning. The lake lay in a shallow valley, surrounded by high fir-woods. Just across from where we sat a higher mountain rose, its bare top glowing golden in the early morning sun. That mountain and a good portion of sky were reflected perfectly in the lake. Raven indicated the reflection vaguely.

"Nightchaser would say, _shech'khai yelo_, the world beyond"

I hesitated. Raven seldom let on anything that touched him, even less when it was concerned with his reaction to Ashi'kha belief.

"And as Nightchaser is not here, what would Raven say?"

"Raven is not good with words, so he will not say anything"

He made to stand up, but I held him back "Now you've given me titbits, tell me what it's about"

Raven glared at me but answered reluctantly after a moment "There is an old song which says the world beyond the sky is reflected in the water. That is the world where the hawk takes the _osh'har_ of my people"

"_Osh'har_?"

"Fёar"

From somewhere high in the firs a bird of prey screeched, and a hawk sailed across the open space. Raven took a step back and stared after the bird.

"See? This is uncanny"

Before he could think twice about it he turned away and dived into the water, making for the middle of the lake. I caught up with him a little later, dunking him soundly. Raven came up sputtering.

"I hope that drives thoughts of the nether world from your head for the time being"

"Definitely" Raven took a moment to catch his breath "In fact it makes me think of revenge"

A good while later we returned to the bank. The sun was now high enough to shine onto the bank and we flopped down where the thin rays were warming the ground a little. "That's about the only sun we will see today" Raven remarked with a look at the surrounding hills "About midday it will be behind those woods, so let's use the warmth"

He stretched out on the ground comfortably, unheeding of the fir needles that immediately attached themselves to his wet hair. I watched him in amusement as I wrung out my own hair and twisted it into a makeshift knot to avoid sweeping the whole forest floor. A little behind us we could hear the soft sounds of the camp, the occasional snort of a horse. A few others came to the lake to bath but the bank was wide enough that we remained undisturbed. Near midday the sun moved slowly away from our spot, and I shook off drowsiness as I shivered in the cooling air. Raven's spot was still in sunlight and I moved aside to sit beside him and catch the last sunrays.

There was still a perfect reflection of the surrounding landscape visible on the water. The lake lay in a good place - with many other waters, clear reflections like this were restricted to special times in a day, when the light fell only thus and so. Here, the reflection only changed in colour, not in clarity. I looked around for the hawk, but there were no birds at all in sight. I cast a thoughtful glance at my companion, but resolved to let the subject be for the time. I was just going to turn away again when something caught my eye.

We had seen each other naked enough times before that I thought there was little we had _not _seen. Maybe it was a trick of the sunlight that I saw the strange scar now for the first time. Since it was rather low on Raven's groin I supposed the loincloth Raven generally wore always covered it. I squinted against the sunlight, wondering if it was by accident that the scar was shaped like a wolf's paw. No, it did not look like chance. I knew the Ashi'kha had a liking for tattoos, but this looked too clumsy for their handiwork, as if it had been burned through the skin into raw flesh. And they had neither fire nor iron.

I might push my luck. After all, Raven certainly owed me for the accident with the orcs. I would have to do a lot of explaining soon.

"Raven?"

"Uhm"

"What's that scar?"

His reaction was quite fascinating, though I had not expected anything near as violent. Raven twisted up into a sitting position and unconsciously moved his hand to cover the scar. He blinked "I…forgot that"

"What is it?"

I knew that stubborn look on Raven's face. _I don't know, I don't _want_ to know, I am not going to tell. _Raven pulled his knees up and wrapped his arms around them, looking away across the water. After a moment he sighed and dropped his rejective posture "Oh damn it. After yesterday I should have thought-" he shook his head. I waited, wondering if I would be getting some information without prying. It obviously had nothing to do with Ashi'kha tradition; Raven was not so touchy about that.

"Orcs like to play with their prey. They also like to – mark their captives" Raven said abruptly. I took a moment to digest that. Better to say nothing for a while than to blurt. My heart made a painful jump, transporting me back in time in an eye blink. I shook that off.

Raven hated orcs with all his heart. Because they had killed his brother. Was there something else to it? He had closed me out the moment I had asked the question.

"What exactly do you mean?" I asked slowly.

Raven took a deep breath and let it out slowly "Just this: I was a fool, and I paid for it. I got firsthand information about orc hospitality"

"When?"

Raven shrugged "Just after Fingal's death. I…made good work of the company that got him. I was…busy…and another group ran into me. You got some of the…build-up from that time as…backlash. It kind of…set me on edge, you know?"

He smiled darkly. Now that almost made me catch my breath "I can't believe it. And you managed to _hide _that? You are truly a madman"

"Ah" Raven glanced at me sharply "I did my best. Seems I have succeeded. But why madman? And don't talk as if I…were the only one hiding something"

I couldn't help looking away, and I knew the wolf would register that most certainly. At least now _I_ had some clue what had caused his explosiveness concerning physical contact at that time, beside the effect of his brother's death. A touch at the wrong time, an unconscious restraint, and Raven had blown up. Still did.

"And the end of the story? As far as I am informed orcs do not…extend their hospitality very long – to the living, that is"

"No"

"Raven, _what _has this got to do with yesterday? Just give me an answer, because it is us who will get into trouble if that orc-company wreaks havoc somewhere that we _could _easily have prevented. You of all the world have _never_ spared any orc you could get"

Raven rubbed his wrists absently. He stared straight ahead when he finally answered "Look, you get the story…When they got me I knew I was in for some sport. I…I killed three of them, by…do your people have a word for that? To kill with one's mind?" Raven waited for an answer. I shook my head, watching him with rising discomfort. Raven's voice was so cold as to be expressionless, and I could not for the life of me decide if it was terror or hate or something else altogether that held him in thrall at the moment. Raven had closed his mind completely. I tried empathy, and got just blank 'presence'. The question still hung in the air.

"We do not have a word for that" I said finally "In fact, I do not think we…no. We can not do that" I broke off, the full impact of Raven's casual words sinking in "You mean that. That power you have, that can call fire from…from wet earth. You can kill by that"

"Of course" Raven said flatly. He turned around "The look on your face tells me that is new to you"

"I have…speculated. When you did…_shin'a'sha_. But-"

Raven nodded quietly "That was similar. And aye, it works quite well. Just not often. It makes you feel…dirty. You can…burn yourself out" He shrugged, overriding any objection before I could think of coherent words "I had left my sword because I was killing wolf way. When they ran into me I was not wolf. I had an orc-knife and was just leaving a message on their scouts that I had found. They were not pleased, but as there were no archers, I could kill a few still. Two the ordinary way, the others by _taran'oshar_" A pause "They tied me to a tree and left me for their chief. He wanted…well, there are few orc females in the ranging troops. They're at home breeding, I assume. That chief, I think he was bored"

Another pause. I could feel my shoulders knot painfully. That was so familiar. No matter it was a risk every warrior knew and took, no matter that it happened. I had been in luck because Silverleaf had been on time. And those that had no luck did not survive. Or refused to survive.

"I had spent my energy on those three" Raven continued calmly "I could not kill anymore at a distance. I had no chance to escape. So I decided I would…play along. I knew if he would take me he would be…close enough that I could mind-kill him still. And then I would see. Maybe I could have taken a few more and-"

I could not help it. I was horrified. Not so much at the fact. But Raven's cold, completely detached assessment of that…situation made my skin crawl.

"Did he-" Now that was a question no one had the right to ask. I stopped, but Raven only bared his teeth in a thin smile "No. He was a keen one…he…realized what I was doing"

"You wouldn't have survived-"

"No?" Raven stared at me straight, his grey eyes burning into mine. I could sense his temper flare, suddenly, like wildfire, burning through the coldness he had wrapped around himself in the last minutes. But it was not directed at me. For a moment Raven lost control of his shields and I felt the turmoil beneath, the wracking sensation when I realized Raven was directing all the hate and disgust he felt at himself. To me, it felt like turning ones sword against oneself.

"My body is my weapon, and I will use it. You have no idea what I could survive for my own nasty little revenge"

I shook my head in utter disbelief. I wanted to grab Raven and shake him out of that vicious circle, shout at him to come to his senses, but found not even words to say.

Suddenly cold again Raven went on "So he realized what was going on. I'd say he liked it. A pity, because I…I knew he would have suffered more than all the pits of Angband could have given him had I got his…his fёa into my power then. Now, he decided he wanted me for something else. There was a…a little betrayal going on between two orc-camps. He - Karzul that is - wanted the leadership. It would have given him tremendous power. But he needed information, and messengers. And you know orcs are not trusty messengers. He…made me a deal…the wolf would carry the necessary missives, and Karzul would become kind of king among the orcs. Then I would be free"

"You cannot make deals with orcs" I said softly "It simply does not – work -"

"Maybe not. Maybe just not for you. But you have seen what happened yesterday. I think I was…a different matter. Do you see? It is all about hate. That is where we met halfway. That is where there is no…no difference between an orc and me. No" Raven cut me off sharply "I finish now. Karzul, he had his plans. And he hated me. I hated him. We hated each other, and we made a deal that would allow each of us to…to satisfy one another's hate. I…I could have died then and there, do you see? I need not have accepted. There was no guarantee. As you said, you cannot treat with orcs. But it was a chance. How many more had I the chance of taking out if I took his offer? What use was it to die for nothing? Without making them pay? No Gildor, I hate them too much"

Somewhere, I knew, Raven's reasoning failed, but I could not place it. What would I have done, I thought wildly, had I been in his place? The very idea of…all that. _Silverleaf survived, _a tiny voice whispered in my brain. At what cost, I did not know. He had survived, but not with the view Raven had on this. After that one night when his group had rescued me Silverleaf had never mentioned it again.

And in Raven's case, it had been orcs, not men. How could Raven have stood it? He who did not even let me treat his wounds for days after, who blew up at every touch he couldn't see coming. But then, that was what he always said, carried to the extreme - it was all about hate.

"You…wanted to die very badly when I met you, I remember. How does that fit into the picture?" I asked finally, but Raven only shrugged once more.

"That was about a year after the orc-incident. Before that, I thought I could manage to go on until…anyway. I…carried his missives. And I took his answers back. But he was betrayed. Three of his cronies had their own plans. They told one of the parties Karzul wanted to attack with his little private alliance. I was there, and I was only a wolf, a warg, one of the scavengers around their camps. They did not know Karzul had sent them with me rather than sending me with them. I killed them on the way back, when the force against Karzul was already marching. You will realize I could have dropped out then. I did not. I kept my part. So I went back, and put the river beside Karzul's camp between us before calling him out. I cast the missive of his betrayers across, and added the heads of the messengers he had sent with me. And _then_ I dropped out" Raven paused "I would not have thought he would keep to the bargain, though. He owed me, and yesterday he paid me back"

"Yesterday…that was Karzul yesterday"

"Yes" Raven suddenly laughed "How absurd. Bargaining with orcs. And it worked. He has his little kingdom. I can keep having my revenge. Now where's the catch?"

"So he honestly warned us that his force was too great? Instead of laying a nice ambush and taking us out? Raven I cannot belief it! Look at me!" I demanded sharply when Raven turned his head aside. I grabbed his arm and twisted him around "Do you see that I really get doubts as to whose side you're on sometimes, dark elf? What is your game?"

He could not betray us, I told myself. He would not. I would have KNOWN.

Raven did not meet my eyes, tried unsuccessfully to free himself. I tightened my grip and caught his other wrist as well.

"Tell me!" I demanded once more. Raven blinked and abruptly stopped fighting to get away. He slammed his shields down, all of them, with a force of will that made me dizzy. For a brief moment everything flashed through my mind with the immediacy with which Raven had experienced it. The terror when he realized he was tied to a tree and the orc pushing against him, the raw agony when the glowing iron was pressed into his skin. An indefinable time when he lay as wolf in the orc camp, held to a pole by a chain and a leather collar, waiting for Karzul to finish his preparations and send him and the orcs on their way. The savage hate of both wolf and elf when he killed the betrayers, the final realisation of briefly sharing a purpose and a world, even if that world was only hate -

It took me a moment to recover. There was something else –

"What did Karzul say yesterday? As we were going, he said something to you"

"He told me, the next time we met it would be on different grounds. My debt had been paid. So now is his. He…warned us _not _to get into sight of his force, because he would not be able to hold them back then. There is no such thing as immunity of the Commander's orders among orcs. Are you satisfied now?" Raven looked at me angrily. Slowly I let go of his wrists and Raven pushed himself backward, bringing a safe distance between us. Neither of us spoke for a while. Raven shook himself slightly, like a wolf settling his fur "I play my own game" he whispered "By my own rules. But…you should have known…I would never betray you-"

For a long moment the sounds from the camp seemed very loud and near. The light wind carried the voices of others bathing at the lake to us.

"Maybe" I said finally "Maybe I should say I'm sorry-"

"No" Raven interrupted me "Maybe I should have told you. I…I thought you had…seen it anyway, when you…pulled me back. Never mind -" he got up and moved down to the water's edge, crouching down there and trying to calm himself.

After a while I got up and put my hand on his shoulder, turning him around and pulling him to his feet "We know each other too long to quarrel like this, dark elf" I said quietly "If you have such a surprise once more, tell me beforehand. I have the privilege of knowing some of your reasons – but none of the others here does, and they see only what you decide to show them. And that is not much"

Raven looked down "I can't afford to lose you. I do not want to lose you. But I cannot make you understand. This is not fair to you. Maybe we are too different-"

"No" I turned to pick up our clothing "Come. I'm tired, and I should think _you_ are at least hungry by now"

We started out once more that night and rode through the following day. We had not been able to pass south and so we had to take a long way around and were behind schedule. In the face of this afternoon I had not expected us to sleep calmly beside each other. But when we made camp that night Raven was there, setting up our rain-shelter. He had not spoken a word more to me than his report after scouting this morning, and then I had ridden as rearguard until we rested. Rearguard was not assigned the night's watch of the same day, so I knew I would be at loose ends once our group were settled. Unless I found some other chores to do, even if it was stocking up on firewood or gathering additional food. But we were perfectly organized, and not even the smallest chores were left unattended to.

Glorfindel had talked me into taking second command this time, so I was either in the front or middle of our small train when not on rear-guard. Raven wouldn't have had a chance to speak to me if he had wanted while we were moving. I had half expected him to get himself off on some extra duty and found myself oddly uncomfortable when I sat down by the fire. He had the same look on his face.

"Tell me if you'd rather have no company tonight" I said

Raven shrugged "I have no objection to your company, if that is what you mean" he said "The question is if you are happy with mine"

"Not if you're going to snap at me the whole time. I have had my share of bickering today"

"I was not going to 'bicker'" Raven said after a while "But I rather gathered you were…well, I know your people's opinion of what I said yesterday. I thought you -"

"No" I interrupted him "Whatever you thought, forget it" I made a small gesture at the camp around us "Do you think I still have to care for what they think of either me or you? What do they know, Raven? Most of them are…half as old as you and but cubs to me"

"And don't you think I did not see what went through your mind, Gildor? You were horrified"

"Alright" I hissed "I _was _horrified. And do you know why? Because I found myself in that same situation long ago, and I know I could never.have.done._that_. Though I certainly wished I could have shredded them all in midair"

It was just that looks could not kill.I paused, bottling my sudden anger.Silverleaf had killed the orc-chieftain with a half broken spear before the beast could indulge in his sport. I could recall no moment of greater relief and shame than when the Wild Elf leader had cut me loose and we had fled the orc-camp. Not enough that the world had fallen to bits around us in those weeks, that we had fled with the sea on our heels, no. I had to make the fool of the century of myself, and Squirrel had been killed in that damned ambush as well.

Raven stared at the ground "I did not know -"

"No. No one does, and I intend to keep it that way. Look, it was not _you _I was thinking of, it was my own private little failure"

Raven held a stick into the flames and watched it burn slowly "And you tell me I hate myself? You tell me I should not call myself the fool that I am? What the hell is it that _you_ are doing?"

"I am finished with that, Raven. It is past. _You_ keep adding bits and pieces to your shell that you had better cast away. _That_ is the difference"

"Ah" Raven snorted softly "I do? But it keeps me going, you see? As long as I hate I live"

"Yes, even if it is yourself you hate" I observed coldly "You are a danger to yourself, dark elf"

I could see Raven was going to reply something venomous, but was stopped by Glorfindel's arrival. "Forgive me for interrupting your little…chat, but these are orders from Rivendell. Commander" Glorfindel's voice was dripping with sarcasm. He handed the sroll to me with a small bow and _you _are lecturing him on self hate, mellon nin?

I glared at him next time you mind-speak me tell me something new

Glorfindel gave me a thin smile and excused himself. I considered shouting something after him, then decided it was bad enough Glorfindel was right, I need not make it worse by admitting it to his face. Raven frowned "What was that about?"

"Messages" I said shortly and unrolled the parchment.

"You know exactly what I mean" Raven snapped.

The parchment flopped back into a roll when I let it go and I frowned in irritation "He gave me a little hint on not lecturing you about self hate. And damn it, he is right"

Raven said nothing for a long time, staring into the flames while I read the tightly written missive. Nothing that could not have waited until tomorrow. I wondered darkly if Glorfindel had used it as an excuse to place his little verbal dagger. Most probably. Would look like him. The bastard knew me too well. I let the paper flip back into its roll and placed it on my pack. A few drops of rain began to fall. Oh, wonderful.

"Look I'm tired" Raven said abruptly "Are you going to freeze, do you want to argue, or shall we call it a day?" He threw the stick he had been toasting into the fire and crawled into our rain-shelter. I snarled silently "I did not wish to argue in the first place" I shoved our packs into the foot end of the shelter and followed Raven inside. For a long while I lay listening to the steady patter of rain on the oiled skin above us. Raven was quickly asleep. All wolf way. I wished I could do that now. I closed my eyes tightly and willed my body to relax. If my mind couldn't rest at least let me have that, I thought grimly, wondering what entity I was addressing.

I was awakened the next morning by the smell of fresh bread. The _intense_ smell of fresh bread. Right before my nose. I blinked and focused on the small loaf in front of my eyes, then let my gaze follow the stick upon which it hung.

"I thought if you were going to bite someone I would have a test first" Raven said dryly and waved the stick slightly before my face, giving me a lopsided grin. There was a cold, thin rain outside, and the wet firewood sizzled and popped. Raven's hair already curled with the dampness. Ours was the only fire in the open.

"How long are you up?" I asked slightly worried. It would not do for the Captain to oversleep. I crawled out of the rain shelter and saw with relief that the camp was just beginning to stir. The bread was still there, hanging between us like a charmed thing. Sometimes he was so silly.Despite myself I had to grin. I plucked the still warm loaf from the stick "You at least should not have to worry anyone biting you, wolf"

"No" Raven stuck a new ball of dough onto his branch and held it over the flames to roast.

"How did you get that going?" I gestured to the sizzling fire. Raven shrugged eloquently. We ate in silence and I was just beginning to feel my foul mood clear when one of the hunters approached us. Judging by the brisk walk she had something to say. The elf inclined her head briefly in greeting "The Captain wants to see you, Commander. As soon as possible"

"Can't he say _now_ when he means it?" I grumbled softly as I extracted my cloak from our shelter and threw it across my shoulders "He could come here for a change"

I got up and followed the slightly perplexed hunter towards Glorfindel's shelter. I took some time warming up in the morning, especially in the _early_ morning. I wondered if Glorfindel knew he was brewing grumpiness that way. Well, supposedly he did.

When I arrived, Glorfindel was talking to one of last night's guards. I could have finished my tea then. I leaned against a tree and took the freedom to listen.

"…and we could easily have fought them. I at least have never heard that Elves _ran _from orcs" the scout obviously just finished a sentence.

"We did not _run_, we avoided a confrontation. One that would have not only endangered the whole group but most certainly cost us half of our men if not all"

"But they were less…"

"There were far more behind, as you would know had you heard the scouts' reports this morning. Now if you have objections to my orders you are free to go to Riv-"

"No Commander" the guard interrupted him hastily "It is not your orders I doubt, it is the dark elf's loyalty. If you will excuse me now, my guards await the instructions for today" He bowed quickly "I know you will have your reasons"

"You can bet on it" Glorfindel murmured at the guard's retreating back and turned to me. He took in my slightly frazzled appearance and gestured towards his own fire.

"Want some tea?" He could not keep amusement out of his voice. I frowned "As mine is just cooling back there, yes, you could make amends"

Glorfindel smiled knowingly "Sorry for calling you out, but I do not intend to keep you long" He gave me a steaming mug "I am going to hear that guard's objections at least five times more this morning before the scouts' reports have gone through the camp. I assume you can give me a reason for Raven's play?"

I sipped my tea carefully "I can. He did not play, and first tell me what the scouts said"

Glorfindel shrugged "Just confirmed what Raven said. What that orc said. There was indeed a force of well-armed orcs in a long valley to the south, counting about one hundred, probably more. We would have got into _great_ trouble, and then we would have had a very good reason to 'run from orcs' as he just put it. - So?"

"So what?"

"So what about Raven. He told you last night, I guess"

"When you saw fit to remind me what I'd rather forget? Yes -"

Glorfindel snorted "The privilege of long acquaintance. Someone _has _to remind you, and as no one else dares-. And now report, Commander"

I shrugged uncomfortably "He had some…time to acquire his knowledge of their tongue. And I believe he had earned the right for that…that orc's allowance"

"You speak in riddles"

"I keep having to unriddle most of his past, so I suppose it rubs off. He…was taken prisoner by them. You know he has…kind of a different way of dealing with things, so they came to a sort of understanding and separated…well, you can't call it peacefully, but at least alive. That guy yesterday was the one Raven…uhm…helped get the position he has now – chieftain. They are even now. The next time they strike up any bargain, it will be with swords. Raven's…intentions just happened to coincide with those of the orcs"

"Sure" Glorfindel said tersely "And right now his plans happen to coincide with ours? Or with yours? How long? And what will he do when our intentions no longer…_coincide_?"

"He will certainly not drop out and turn the blade on _you_" Both of us whirled in surprise as neither had heard Raven's approach.

"You could announce your presence, do you know?" Glorfindel said sourly.

Raven smirked slightly and inclined his head "Yes, sir._ I _am not going to tell it again, but I have been told you are a good mind-speaker. I can show you. I showed it to him yesterday, so…"

Glorfindel watched him thoughtfully before turning to me "He did?"

I nodded uncomfortably "He did"

"Well, he would not be able to lie to you that way. He would even less have a chance to hide something from me"

"Karzul, he will…he risked some price of his own yesterday, Captain" Raven said after a while "He may have well have to kill his whole guard that you saw. He can't risk mutiny, and if they will look like spreading word of what he did in the army, heads will roll. If they are as loyal to him as they looked…" Raven shrugged "That was an elite troupe of orcs. Karzul will have great power, now"

"You understand these…orcs pretty well"

Raven shook his head "No. I do not. It is…kind of a universal law among them. I do not know Karzul that well. I would never have thought he might…actually keep his word to this consequence. But this is it. With this there is nothing more between us that would make us…for a moment kind of immune to each other"

Glorfindel nodded "I still find it hard to believe, but I am not going to doubt Gildor'sjudgement"

Raven nodded quietly "Hate is one thing orcs understand. They are constantly scheming and planning rebellion against their master, but it never comes to aught. So what they do is scheming against each other to get what power they can among their own kind. They hate each other, they hate their master, they hate themselves" Raven cast a quick look at me and got up "And I hate orcs. Now, are you satisfied? I can still show you"

I held my breath. Glorfindel was right – Raven would not have the least the chance to hide anything from him. If I had doubted him yesterday, his offer now laid most of my misgivings to rest. Glorfindel frowned, but nodded, looking after Raven for a moment "So I have to take his story at face value"

"You just decided to"

"Yes" Glorfindel turned his mug in his hands absently "He seems pretty attached to you, Gildor. Why do you protect him? What is he to you? Or should I ask, what are you to him?"

I gave a short laugh at his abrupt change of topic "If I knew. Ask what I am to him, and I can tell you he is like the wolves he adores. I am pack leader and pack mate in one. But what he is to me I… don't know"

"Would it help if I told you?" Glorfindel said with a slight grin "You love him?"

I looked away "I do. And I do not intend to let him know"

"Why?"

"Why! Glorfindel, I don't think he is…he would not appreciate the idea"

Glorfindel snorted "You tell _me? _I can't help thinking he is…rather unconventional in his idea of morals, and you think _that_ would bother him?"

"I do not think that _idea _would bother him, I think it is having it transferred to _him_…us. Whatever. You see?"

"You could be very…direct in your advances. Why so shy now? I don't think he would run screaming"

I smirked "Probably not. We would kill each other before we got anywhere near business"

Glorfindel laughed "Aw, come on. Just because he got the best of you concealing things this time? You got along fine with _Darkstone_ and think you can't cope with Raven? I don't think!"

I winced. If Glorfindel only knew "You _think _an awful lot today, you know?" Glorfindel just raised an eyebrow "I tell you what it is, master: I rather keep him as a friend instead of losing him as a lover, right? And if I remember rightly, Captain, we started out discussing orcs, not my love-life"

"You have to start somewhere" Glorfindel grinned "But right, Commander. The plan is simple - we will ride far into the night if it does not start raining and halt only a few hours. We should reach Gormach's village in two days then. That will give us one day to rest before the whole force starts out. If we plan another stop for this night, we will have to go straight on and join the fight without a chance to rest before"

Chapter Notes:

_Shech'khai yelo_: Ashi'kha "the world beyond" (lit. "lair-hawk forever")

_Taran'oshar_ : Ashi'kha "to mind-kill"

Mellon nin (S): "my friend"

14


	42. Chapter 42 Demonhound

**Demon-Hound**

TA 2940

Raven's POV

The company from Rivendell joined up with the mixed group of elven and human fighters near the Gladden Fields. I failed to see the finer causes of this, and did not try to understand them very much. What I knew sufficed to satisfy my desire for facts. There was no clear battle front, and the fighting had up to now consisted of defence. Groups of mounted fighters attacked the small garrisons which had collected around the main settlement at irregular intervals. The local forces had tried at first to defend only the settlement, but the hill men had used burning arrows and flung torches when they had breached the lines, and several wooden buildings had caught fire. After that the defence had been spread thinner to encircle the village twice and at a greater distance. That way most attackers could be stopped before they had a chance to fire arrows, and those who breached the first line could still be stopped by the second before they reached the village. But that method had also cost more lives than expected as it tended to pitch one defender against one or more attackers, and there was a distance of several feet between the guards. So far the elven archers making up a third, outer ring of initial defence had prevented greater losses, but reinforcement was gladly accepted.

Gildor had wondered why fighters from Imladris had to jump in when the realm of Mirkwood was about the same distance and could also have sent help. After all, it was them who traded with the Dale humans and their neighbours. Relations between Imladris and Mirkwood, I gathered, were respectful but not extremely friendly. Maybe Elrond would rather send willing fighters of his own than bicker with the woodland realm for a division of duties. I did not mind nor care.

There _were _actually Silvan elves here we found out when Glorfindel halted to speak to a group of archers, and also a handful of Rangers. They mentioned orcs, but their main concern lay with the fact that the attackers were Men.

"Are we going to battle humans?" I asked with slight discontent later as we surveyed the village from the first line of defence.

Gildor shrugged "Do you care? I thought you were coming here because of battle"

"I have no business with humans" I said "It's orcs I want"

"Well, you're not going to get them now" Gildor slipped of Fairё's back "We will not always be at the village, the idea is to get rid of the attackers and return to Imladris, not to take over their job of guarding. We will mostly have hill men on our hands until then, but the one or other orc will be among them for you, I suppose" He looked around for Glorfindel as I dismounted as well "Could you see Fairё gets something to eat and water before one of the humans tries to be helpful and take her to the other horses?"

"Yes" I took our packs off her back "Where are _you_ going? Oh, alright" I added when he saw Glorfindel coming towards us with Asfaloth trailing behind "Captain's duties"

"Raven" Glorfindel hailed me "Will you take Asfaloth with you when you're keeping an eye on Fairё? He isn't happy getting picketed with the mortal horses either"

"Uh" I gave the huge stallion a doubtful glance "If he comes with me. I am not going to argue with _him_" As Fairё had decided to include me into her mind-speaking range I could literally argue with _her_, though she generally obeyed when Gildor told her to stay with me. I would not want trouble with the Captain's own horse.

"Don't worry, I think he is quite tractable if he escapes being gloated over by eager horse-breeders that way. And you can leave the armour on those two, we will be moving further out from the village tonight"

Gildor whistled softly as he went with Glorfindel to meet up with the other leaders "You're leaving _Asfaloth _with _him_? What did Raven do to dissolve your doubts about him?"

"Nothing" Glorfindel shrugged slightly and slung his sword across his back "But if Fairё goes with him, he can't be that bad company"

Gildor laughed "Nice that you trust a horse's judgement more than mine"

We had "hill-men on our hands" sooner than expected. At dusk, Glorfindel and Gildor had split our group into six smaller ones and stationed them among the outer defence guards. Together with the Silvan elves this outer line was now considerably better equipped than before. The archers from Imladris had taken places among the original ones.

I had joined the scouts as I was definitely excluded from the front line of the armoured fighters this time. That was an advantage only because scouting was what I felt confident in. It separated me from Gildor and the scout leader was decidedly cold towards me. I ignored the obvious reason for the reserve and simply took up a place in their line. If somebody was displeased with that they should tell me plainly. No one did, so I was a considerable distance from defence lines when the far-scouts returned with alarm.

I climbed a tree and decided I would be archer until I had an idea how these hill-men went about fighting. There were no orcs, and I grimaced when the first fighters came into view. They were trying to be quiet, but only half-heartedly. They also looked more like the remnant of some force than an attacking unit. No bows, but shields, swords and riding leathers. No horses. There were no horse carcasses around the village and no one had mentioned that they had killed hill-men horses. This smacked of a feint, and hopefully that was what the rest knew as well.

Damn, I should really learn this Sindarin language. There was a soft command along the scout line, and the archers nearest to me took off two of the men. Well then, so much for waiting. I nocked an arrow and aimed, but the men had already raised their shields against more arrows from above and moved forward quickly to leave the line of the archers behind. They obviously know this game well – we should change tactics. I moved along the branch and silently praised the forest here. The branches were thick and interlacing, I could even move from tree to tree. I debated dropping down and finishing a few more of this group, but then moved on to see what was behind them. Let the second line deal with them.

I quietly crossed three trees and then stopped to concentrate on the forest. There was an invisible archer right in front of me. I needed a moment to weave a satisfactory _maka'a'ra_ but then – _ha. _I made a soft sound to avoid getting spitted and moved forward into the archer's tree. He was not of the Imladris group "What are you doing?" he hissed, but I interrupted him, scrabbling the few Sindarin words I knew together and pointing ahead "Look out with…mind. You must…tell…the others" The archers frowned but obviously pieced what I meant together correctly. He looked blank for a moment, scanning the land as I had told him to "Now you are sharp. Come" he grinned and gestured for me to follow. We moved forward along the branches "The others know now. Let's flush these guys out before they assume they could startle _us_"

We were right above the hill-men in hiding when the archer stopped me "Arrows?" he mouthed "You are no archer"

I nodded "Arrows first, then you give me cover"

It was not really fair, I thought wryly, picking them off in the dark without warning. Five men never got the chance to rise. The Silvan archer was incredibly fast and sure of his aim. I was impressed. I killed two and one arrow went astray. I let the one shoot who was good at it and did my own job. I dropped out of the tree and landed in the middle of the men.

I had always thought orcs were much like elves, but I had been wrong. Even these humans…this was _very_ uncomfortably different from fighting orcs. I had not expected it to be _so _different. There was no time to dwell on that. The nature of my arrival had thrown the men somewhat, and I killed three with a few rapid strokes of my blade, avoiding their backswings easily. I heard the swish of arrows above the ringing of steel and the hoarse cries.

Even their blood smelled different.

The archer dropped down and drew an elegantly curved sword to join the melee "You are too fast to cover with arrows" he shouted, attacking the men at the same time. I ducked as an axe whistled over my head and threw myself to the ground, swiping at the man's legs. Now this was nasty. My opponent had no shin guards and went down roaring. I grimaced and got to my feet, bringing my sword down forcefully and cutting off the screaming. I whirled when I felt someone at my back, but pulled the strike when I realized the archer had bumped into me and looked just as startled.

"Up" He pushed me towards the tree "Up, there are too many coming" Another archer scrambled down the branches and reached out a hand to pull me up, then left me to help my temporary fighting partner up.

"Stay and shoot from here" the archer ordered as he arranged himself beside me and exchanged his knifes for the bow again. "The armoured fighters are taking over the main attack, and we are up here to pick off what we can"

I frowned, puzzling through the words "Why? That's not -"

"That's the orders"

I was tempted to ask whose, and why they should be valid when it was obvious one could take off more of the enemy on the ground instead of shooting arrows in the dark like an angry squirrel throwing nuts at invaders of its territory. I didn't and took a suitable place higher up the tree, squinting down through the leaves and waiting for a chance to shoot. I got a few chances and counted seven dead more on my roll, but found myself out of my depth. There was something disconcerting about killing humans, though I could not place the feeling. The wolf cared little. He noted other differences to killing orcs that nevertheless missed out what I felt strange about the business.

After a while the archer signalled for me to come down once more, and we inspected the ground around the tree carefully. The hill-men had not taken their dead with them. The archer moved around and checked for survivors. I followed his example, keeping a wary eye on the surrounding forest "You have not killed humans before" the archer stated when he returned from his inspection "It it's not pleasant" he added at my careful nod "They are quite…unorcish"

There was the sound of hooves and we turned, shifting into cover. But it was no hill-man's horse it was "Asfaloth?" I left my cover and glanced at the archer, who shrugged. The riderless stallion stopped and pawed the ground, whickering and throwing his head. I felt my heart skip. Something had gone wrong over there – but why should he bother with me? "He wants you to come with him" the archer said and pushed me forward "Quick"

I moved towards the horse, thinking I spent quite some time being pushed around today. Glorfindel's stallion was even higher in the shoulder than Fairё. I could not reach the saddle horn, so the stirrup was fairly useless. I hooked one foot behind Asfaloth's armour and unceremoniously pulled myself up by Asfaloth's long mane and the side of the saddle, feeling my hands shake.

The stallion turned and surged forward as soon as I had swung a leg over his back and was partly in the saddle. He thundered through the dark forest and towards the village and increased speed when he reached the open space that had been cleared half a mile around the buildings. I clung to the saddle horn as we passed puzzled glances when the Captain's horse galloped past with me, leaping fallen men in his path and swerving sharply whenever someone stumbled into his way. _Please let nothing have happened. _Asfaloth re-entered the forest on the other side of the village and fell into teeth-rattling trot as he sought a path through thick undergrowth and deeper into the trees. Then he braked sharply to pass the last metres at a slower walk. Glorfindel was there, and so was Gildor.

_Thank the gods. _I slipped out of the stallion's saddle and stumbled towards Glorfindel who had his bow out and held an arrow nocked. He gave me a dark look and jerked his head towards Gildor. Fairё stood at the edge of the clearing. She had a cut across her side and the strap holding her breastplate to the saddle belt was torn. Which would at least explain why she wasn't sent. Damn – I blinked in surprise. There were two wolves, one on ground before Gildor, the other half hidden in the thicket beyond and fidgeting. It was lean frazzled looking female, whose forepaw was caught in a trapping iron. She had already scratched a shallow pit into the ground in an effort to dig out the chain it was attached to. I dropped to my knees beside Gildor, who was directing all of his concentration at the wolf to keep her from tearing at the iron even more. Being intimately familiar with wolf reactions I knew what immense power Gildor had to be mustering to keep the wolf moderately quiet. I slammed my shields down and reached for the wolf's mind. Unlike the wolves living in Ashi'kha territory she had of course no idea what the Ashi'kha were, but I could talk to her like a wolf, and in terms a wolf understood.

'You can let her go' I told Gildor when I was sure the wolf understood what I wanted. I sensed Glorfindel waiting behind them, ready to shoot should the wolf attack. She didn't. I crouched down beside her and took hold of her ruff 'Can you open the iron?'

Gildor shrugged slightly 'Yes. Don't you think she will attack still?'

'If so, she will bite the one who holds her' I gave him a crooked smile 'Trust me, I know. I would not ask you to open that otherwise'

Gildor took hold of the two iron halves and pulled. The wolf growled. It was a good iron, and very tight. The metal teeth had cut deep into the wolf's flesh. Gildor dug his fingers into the space and pushed the iron halves apart. The wolf snatched her paw back and twisted with a snarl, her teeth leaving bloody gashes on my arm. I grimaced and held on, trying to calm the frantic wolf by mind-touch. She opened her jaws and released me after a moment, whining softly. I glanced at the wolf hiding in the thickets. He would not come out but did not give the impression of being hurt.

Gildor let the iron snap shut again and cast it aside "Didn't Sarno say something about having checked for traps?" he asked Glorfindel darkly "That could have been one of his men as well"

"I can't account for _his _decisions, can I?" Glorfindel pulled a small bag out of Asfaloth's saddle bags and cast it towards him "Catch"

I let go of the wolf "Thank you" I said softly when Gildor turned back to me. He shook his head "Never mind. You just have to find a way to get the wolves out of here before someone else runs into them. You think _that _works?" he added as I pulled a strip of linen out of the bag and reached for the wolf's paw again.

I shrugged "We'll see" I gathered what healing energy I had and directed it at the bone as best as I could. I lost some time and precious energy to find out how best to channel the flow.

'Here' Gildor closed his hands over mine and gently took over the channelling. That way we could realign the bone directly and heal most of the damage done to the sinew as well, something I would not have managed on my own. I had to concentrate very hard on my part of simply providing energy for Gildor to channel, so I had no time to wonder why Gildor would voluntarily initiate mental contact with a true wolf. By now I knew how little Khai'toh seemed to cherish both the idea and the sensation of that.

I wrapped the linen around the wolf's foreleg nevertheless when we were finished, hoping she would leave it there at least for a few days. I told her to _move away _as far as she could, then let her join the young wolf waiting in his cover.

'Why?' I asked Gildor, puzzled 'You even send _him _to fetch me-'

Gildor shrugged 'Count it as a favour' he replied shortly.

I glanced at Glorfindel who was watching us warily. He shook his head "Wolfskin indeed. Saelbeth mind-spoke us there was trouble as well. At least you have come out of that skirmish over there with your head on"

I had turned wolf that morning when most of my group were off-duty and using the time to rest. If they thought I was sleeping maybe no one would miss me. The two wolves were still nearer than I would wish for them to be. I hunted and killed a grouse for them, knowing the female would have trouble running for a while.

Afterwards I carefully circled the village, looking for more forgotten wolf irons. Since these posed just as much danger to the horses and the fighters Gildor knew he could not order me back on the grounds of unnecessary risk. I was aware of that, but I felt as much driven to care for the wolves as Gildor felt bound by his Captain's duty.

I took a long time for that job as I had to be extra careful both of the Elven guards and possible irons. I found two more and sprung them carefully. It was fully dark when I returned towards the village and heard the noise of fighting. I made for the sounds but then sensed Gildor further away from the centre and changed direction, running towards him and more shouting. I came into the clearing and found only four elves there, on foot and trying to hem in three unhorsed hill-men and their mounted leader. The ground was rocky here and the horse had difficulty finding secure footing. At a command from its rider it shrieked and started forward, crashing through the fighters in the clearing and ploughing towards the darkness of the forest.

"The man! The man! Stop him!"

Several arrows missed its rider or failed to penetrate his armour, getting stuck in the heavy leather.

'Raven, NO'

As wolf I slipped through their legs easily and tore after the horse. I just caught Gildor's furious sending before I could think of nothing else but the chase across the rocky ground.

'Damn you, you thick headed idiot!' Gildor roared after me. A narrow path wound between the overgrown rocks, and I ran so fast I could feel the blood pounding in my ears. The horse in front of me stumbled and slowed to regain its balance. I closed the distance.

"Demon hound!" The human cursed and flung his spear, jerking the horse around. I leaped aside and the spear clanged off the rocks, clattering aside. My prey surged forward again.

If he escaped, he would call too many. I was close behind the horse, getting pelted with stones torn up by the hooves. I snapped but missed the horse's legs. It would not do to lose a fang to this beast. So I feinted, pretending to snap a few times until I had unnerved the horse enough to fight its rider. I had not counted on this one being a battle-trained charger. The horse twisted and kicked out, catching me in the side and sending me flying. That cost it an ungainly leap and its front legs sank into a gap between the stones. The horse crashed to the ground, and the rider was thrown. The charger scrambled to his feet, but without his rider's constraint did not attack again, dancing aside.

Through a haze of pain I hurled myself forward and sank my teeth into the man's ankle, biting through the leather boot in my anger. My prey screamed hoarsely, fumbling for the knife at his belt. I dragged him over the ground and around, hoping to gain time by keeping the man from reaching his knife. Hoof-beats thundered up behind us and I heard Gildor's shouted command to get out of the way, Glorfindel's angry "No, Saelbeth!"

With an act of will I released my hard-won prey and retreated from the kicking man before two arrows hit him in quick succession. I slunk to the side and into the thickets as the other fighters arrived. Dimly, I was aware of a row between Saelbeth and Glorfindel, but the death of our prey satisfied me enough to ignore it for the time being. I flopped on my side and took a few deep breaths, trying to reduce the pain. I had made a similar close acquaintance with caribou horns before, but this time at least it did not feel as if my ribs were broken.

I expected a confrontation for this lone hunt, but I expected it to be as Raven and with the Captain, not as wolf with Gildor. When he reached me a moment later, he was, for some reason, still fuming. More anger than was justified for a thwarted pack leader, the wolf decided. Gildor dropped to his knees beside me and pushed me over roughly, pinning me on my back with one hand in my ruff. My first reaction was to bite him and I just managed to keep the wolf back. Gildor did not bother to use mind-speech, and I flattened my ears back uncomfortably, forcing myself to lie still.

"Give me one damn reason for that, will you?" Gildor snapped softly. "We had a deal, wolf, and this is not the first time you plough over it!"

Ah. It did not concern the wolf alone, but the changerI could not move from my uncomfortable position but swished my tail in anger. Before I could return something Gildor continued. He did not raise his voice, but the hissed words had the same effect as if he had yelled "Do that once more, Raven, and I will not fight a single battle with you again!"

I was caught between the wolf desiring proper submission towards the leader and the anger of my unfurred part. Though the wolf was rather insensitive to verbal reproaches his words stung me. For a moment, I lay quite still, fighting with myself. My side throbbed and I was out of breath. The man was dead, no reinforcement would come. What else could be bothering Gildor? What did he expect me to do!

'Then leave it be' I returned angrily. I got to my feet, pushing up against Gildor's restraint, and limped away.

Gildor's POV

I picked up a rock and smashed it into the jumbled stones, swearing violently. Glorfindel winced at the extremely colourful expression and approached me carefully.

"Leave him be" he said quietly.

"Now _you_ are covering him?" I snarled "He's under your orders. He's supposed to obey them. He's supposed not to drag the whole company on a suicide charge across gravel!"

"No he isn't" Glorfindel agreed "But he didn't drag us, and he caught the man, because he did not hesitate or wait for confirmation. At the moment that is what counts"

"That man" I snapped "could easily have led him right into a waiting line of his buddies. That is why we did not chase after him head over heels. That is why we were agreed on arrows. That-"

"Is true" Glorfindel interrupted me "But in any other case you would be the one to point out that all went well and the result was what counted. At least, that is what you brightly told me after leading your whole damned flank to the front against my _explicit _orders"

"Do you have any idea how much he really means to me?" I said slowly in measured tones, hovering between anger and desperation. Glorfindel gave me a dark look "I do now. Very much. But I swear he will not change in that respect, and unless he is going to relinquish the hate that drives him, you will have but two choices – to let him fight alone or to fight by his side"

I consciously restrained myself from growling in frustration.

"And really I cannot see you taking the first option" Glorfindel added calmly. The thicket screened us from the sight of the others. I took a breath and let it out slowly, only then realizing Raven's cover had just slipped – completely. At least with Glorfindel.

_Now_ I was in trouble.I groaned "Oh gods, damn it all"

Glorfindel sat down on the boulder beside me "_What is he_?"

I shook my head desperately "You are too calm to have just found it out"

Glorfindel nodded "I guessed something. When you came to Rivendell with him. I…I can hardly explain to you _what _I see, but it is like…" he sought for words "When I look at him it is like his shadow is…wolf. I thought at first it was his…let's call it totem. There are human tribes with a strong belief in spirit guide animals. It works…if you have the power to see, you know which animal actually_ is_ their…guide. But they do not physically change. Now I just know the wolf is not…just his guide"

"No. He is a wolf if he wants to be one" I looked at Glorfindel searchingly "Who else knows?"

To my relief Glorfindel shook his head "No one else even suspects. Not even Elrond. I guess it is…comes with what I am, that I can see him like that. The others did not see him just now, he's black. So…I take it you…have promised to keep that secret. Wisely, I suppose. And now tell me what he is. And before you ask, I won't say anything. I do not find him trustworthy, but he is not evil"

"Coming from you I suppose that is a statement one can carve in stone" I murmured "He…his people call themselves Ashi'kha. Don't ask me if they are elves or not. I suppose they all look like him, and he is definitely elven. To some degree that is. They all can do that, changing. They are born with the…skill. That's about it"

Glorfindel laughed "You have a werewolf trailing you and tell me that's about it. That can only come from you"

I smiled thinly "He will tell you, he is _not _a werewolf"

Raven's POV

The atmosphere was humming with tension. Still wolf, I had limped to a small stream further into the forest. I drank deeply, then waded into the water and tried to roll without getting water into my ears. The rough gravel below the water helped clean the dirt out of my fur and the rushing water cooled my bruised flank.

I was in trouble and I knew it. Bad enough that I had ignored a first-rank command from the leader - 'use arrows' - I had ignored Gildor's command. It mattered little if I judged on the grounds of our two-member pack or in military terms. Both ways, Gildor was the leader. I had reacted to the wolf, and as a wolf. Decisions were made and followed in a moment. Immediately. And the wolf almost always decided in the favour of prey. Having to decide just for myself I had been on the go just a second before Gildor, forced to weigh the options for the whole company, had reacted. The trouble was, I could have stopped and given up the chase, but I had not. And worse than disobeying the leader's command, whether Glorfindel's or Gildor's, I had, I guessed, somehow betrayed Gildor's trust. Or his feelings. I could not make up my mind.

The wolf was perfect in obeying when he should – after all, he was a pack animal, and not even the leader. So why hadn't I? Anyway, if a wolf disobeyed the leader the matter was settled on the spot, at once. A growl and a sharp nip to say you had overstepped your bounds. A matter of rank, not of personal like or dislike. I knew that, I could judge that, act according to that. But this was different – two leaders, one under the command of the other, and both had to be obeyed. And Gildor was not only leader, he was a friend. I crawled out of the water and shook myself vigorously, wishing I could shake off my confusion like the water drops in my fur.

When I had settled my coat and looked up I found Glorfindel sitting on the bank, waiting. I froze, shock lancing through me. For a moment I was paralyzed, caught between the impulse to run and anger at my own inattentiveness. Maybe he did not know it was me and thought me just one of the dogs – no, that was silly.

"Here" Glorfindel ordered, his tone making clear disobedience was out of the question and that he knew quite well that the wolf understood him perfectly. Too late then. Expecting another confrontation, I limped up to him, stopping two arms lengths away, waiting. I flattened my ears and kept my tail lowered to show I meant no challenge.

"Wolf" the Captain stated "Not a Raven, then. Shapeshifter or shapechanger?"

I ducked slightly, not wanting to lower my shields to mind-speak Glorfindel. I had offered a much deeper connection to him some days ago, but I was so confused at the moment I did not trust me on this at all.

by the way, you can mind-speak me without unshielding wholly Glorfindel gave me a sarcastic smile you're in luck

I straightened my back and shook my out fur once more, feeling acutely uncomfortable. I had to lower my main shields nevertheless.

'Shape shifter' I tried to watch Glorfindel without looking at him directly 'I can shift from wolf to elf and back, but no other form is possible'

Glorfindel nodded "What is your purpose here?"

That was _the _question. And I had only one answer for him 'I hunt orcs. And I am with Gildor'

"And are your plans just…coinciding with his, or is there more?"

Now I flattened my ears in anger, quelling the wolf's desire to snarl – Glorfindel could hardly know what I felt for Gildor. When half the time I myself could not say for sure.

"What is Gildor to you, wolf?" Glorfindel asked sharply when I dithered about the formulation. What right have you to ask? I wanted to know but held back. I was hardly in a position to be snappish now.

'He is…my friend…He is pack leader'

"And you?"

That threw both wolf and elf.

"What are you to him?" Glorfindel held my gaze. The wolf was caught between answering the challenge in that stare and looking away. I knew I must not look away if I did not wish to loose any respect or trust Glorfindel might still have in me.

'I am…not sure. I don't know. I…follow him'

Glorfindel crossed the distance between us and crouched down before me "Not that strictly, I see. Do you know what you mean to him?"

I made a slight backward motion before I could catch myself "Don't you dare look away now" Glorfindel took hold of my head and forced me to look up "He takes a hell of a risk in covering you. And maybe you do not realize it, wolf, but you are playing quite a lot with his feelings for you" He was strong. I could feel the collected power focused on me, though he did not use it.

'He knows me' I replied tightly 'He knows my mind. I have no secrets from him'

"No?" Glorfindel gave me another sarcastic smile "I take it he knew nothing about you and your trip with the orcs"

I bared my fangs slightly 'I thought he knew' I said defensively 'I was sure he knew'

"What do you mean he knows your mind? It seems he hardly knows what to make of you so much more than I do" Glorfindel refused to be put off.

'I do not know your people's word for it. I tried to call the Other Wind. There is a ritual to…pull one's fёa back when it…wishes to forsake the body. This…is what he did. I…daresay he _knows _me'

Glorfindel held my eyes for a long moment. I seized all control I had to keep the wolf from avoiding the look and stood still. I sensed Glorfindel was doing something, but I could detect no direct searching. So I simply waited to what conclusion he would come.

Finally the Captain let me go and sat down "I know him too. Probably better than you. And I can promise you, you put quite some strain on his trust in you with your orc-story. So what about today?"

Unconsciously, I slicked my ruff down 'Someone shouted to keep the man back – so I did. None of the others would have managed'

Glorfindel nodded carefully "I'm not going to reproach you for that. At least _you_ managed to detain our prey without killing him"

I would have frowned. Now I pricked my ears forward once more.

'I took it his death was the aim'

"No, bloodthirsty demon-hound. We were not going to let him escape, but the idea was to keep him a living prisoner"

I was puzzled. 'Why in Middle Earth that? He would not have granted any of us the same…mercy' It was a strange idea to think of imprisonment as mercy. I couldn't do it.

"Probably not. But we could have learned something about the rest of his men. This group today was not the only one skulking around in these hills"

Now that Glorfindel had released me I could move further up the bank to sit down. I had to settle on my side and stretch out my hind legs to keep the pain bearable.

'I do not understand you. There are so many enemies, would you take them all captive and wait for the war to end or their mind to change? Kill them, and be done with it'

"That's about what Saelbeth said. And I would rather do it as well, sometimes" Glorfindel said abruptly, then broke off and sighed "What is the use in telling you it is a horrible feeling to kill men, dark elf? Or wolf?"

Still uncertain, I glanced at him 'Try me, if you like' I said finally 'I have no love for humans, but my people are not born as man-killers'

Now he looked puzzled "Orcs have no choice but to be what they were made to be" he said slowly "But men still have a choice. They_ could_ change their minds. And killing them takes that chance away from them. But sometimes I wonder why I do care? They have betrayed us more than once. They could do so again"

I could see what he meant, partly, but say little to that. I knew nothing of betrayal between elves and men. I only knew that dogs were not to be trusted, ever. I knew that I might blend into the world of Rivendell if I was careful. But to get right into action as in this fighting just made my deficiencies in dealing with Khai'toh too obvious.

'I am causing trouble' I said suddenly 'I cannot fight in a group. Maybe I should not go with you any longer. I -'

"No" Glorfindel interrupted me "You had your exceptions and detours, but as yet they were your risk alone, I assume. Excepting your orc-friend, maybe. I would hold it against you did you endanger the whole company with your private war. Even if Gildor thinks otherwise right now. You did not – I would have ordered the riders to stay otherwise" he hesitated "And I would lose Gildor that way. I have a notion he would stay with you if you dropped out"

'No' I said 'No, I think not' Glorfindel had confirmed my assumption that he and Gildor had used to be more than friends, but that was not what troubled me. It satisfied my curiosity, not my desire to find a right way to deal with Gildor.

"Yes. And now let me look at that" he added when I twisted to lick my bruised side without thinking. Even now, I forgot elven conventions. And the idea that he might touch me was unsettling. But I could not jump up and evade him 'It's not much'

Glorfindel smiled wryly "I know, it never is. But we will be here for a while yet, and you will hear awkward questions tomorrow how you could get kicked by a horse in the night"

'Gildor had a different opinion' I returned to the original topic, flinching a little as Glorfindel searched the tender flesh beneath my fur.

"That's a fine bruise you got. The bone is not cracked, though" He pulled a small bulging leather bag from his belt and opened it. The sharp scent of athelas rose from the salve inside and I sneezed violently when I got a whiff. The wolf's nose was extremely sensitive when it came to such scents, I realized. The salve lessened the pain effectively. Glorfindel rested his hands on my side for a moment. I realized he was using healing energy only when it was too late. Suddenly frightened I made to get up. He made a quick motion and laid one hand on my forelegs before I could rise. I froze and remained lying on my side. After a moment Glorfindel withdrew his hands "And Gildor is quite a different matter" he continued easily, ignoring my reaction. He cinched the bag shut and returned it to its loop "It is him you are causing trouble, not the group. That is the fate of anyone who goes into a battle with his companion or mate by his side"

I did not look at him but wrinkled my muzzle in a silent snarl 'I am not -'

"Whatever you are to him. Or will be. Both of you know from experience what lies at the end when you walk that path I think. Gildor's reaction is quite understandable if you ask me. He loves you. Where the wolf goes easily he cannot follow. I suppose it is something different when you are…well, an elf, and fight like an elf"

'Are you telling me I am taking chances with him that I should not?' I demanded, caught between shyness and irritation.

"No. I am not telling you anything. I just ask this - Gildor quite seldom allows himself to show his anger like that. You mean a lot to him, and you should consider that next time"

He got up to return to the rest "When you go back to the village, use the west entrance if you want to avoid questions. I will tell the guard you are coming in later"

I wanted to keep him back and ask what interest he might have in our relationship but remained silent. I could picture that for myself, just his motives escaped me. Had he been Ashi'kha, I would not have doubted his well-meaning. But he was khai'toh, and their pack-law was different from ours. So I lay still for a while, waiting for the pain in my hip to recede some more. I squeezed my eyes shut. _He loves you. _Glorfindel had not used mind-speech, so I lacked the definite context in which the Elda had used the word. But he had said _loves _when he could have said _likes_. He had given something away Gildor had not revealed to either me or the wolf. So what was I to do? Why had Glorfindel done that?

The temptation to remain wolf and sleep out in the forest tonight was great. Before I could give in to that I got up. Whatever Glorfindel had done, it had been very effective. I could walk without a limp. The west-entrance to the village? No. I started to search for Gildor though I had no idea what I should say to him. I just hoped I would find him alone and not in some conference or debate about tactics. Glorfindel's words rang in my mind uncomfortably. I should act on them, immediately. If I was wise, I should. The trouble was, I had no wisdom except the wolf's. And just that got me into difficulties.

First I had to find Gildor. And then wait for a suitable time to broach the subject. However. _Fairё._

I drifted along the rows of picketed horses to the place where the few elf horses stood by themselves to graze freely. Intuition seldom failed the wolf. Fairё had lain down at the edge of the space and was dozing with Gildor resting against her side, his eyes closed as well. I stopped uncertainly, mind-speaking Fairё first 'Bad time to appear?'

She had scented me already, and only her ears twitched slightly as she replied not angry

Now that helped much, I thought wryly. It implied a world of other things. I moved up to Gildor and considered how best to wake him, if at all. I stretched out my muzzle and sniffed, trying to find out about his mood. Whether Fairё had told on me or Gildor sensed me, he woke with a start and narrowed his eyes when he saw me.

"Are you mad" he hissed softly "Taking the wolf _inside _the camp! Change!"

I hesitated, puzzled 'We are not inside -'

Gildor took hold of my muzzle and pulled me towards him slightly "For once do not contradict and obey. _Now_"

'Then let me go' I retreated a little and ducked before calling the change.

"You have to get along with the horse smell for a while" Gildor took Fairё's discarded blanket and held it out to me. I threw it over my shoulders.

"Look, I – I did not-" I fumbled for words, then gave up and ploughed on "I did not mean to be a self-assured idiot, I did not mean to – to get you into that situation, to force you to keep protecting me, I did not mean to disobey either the Captain's or Gildor's orders, it just – just goes and I can't help it, it is like – the rank of Captain means nothing to me, but I did not mean to disregard what you said, it's just that the wolf was faster and I did not want to turn back once I nearly had him -" I ran out of breath and broke off "I am sorry" I finished lamely.

Gildor rubbed his eyes and gave me a weary look "Do me a favour, Raven, and _think _next time. I do not ask you to see me as Captain, but to watch your hide. You may not value your life that terribly much, but I feel rather attached to it, you see?"

"Well, you took quite some pains to keep it here" I admitted with a crooked smile "And I don't think I ever said thank you up to now"

Gildor shrugged and got to his feet. He held a hand out to me and pulled me up.

"Spare me having to trade weregild for your black pelt, that is all I ask, alright?" Gildor said as we left the horses and walked into the camp quietly.

This, I decided, was not a suitable time.

Chapter Notes:

Saelbeth: name borrowed from the website where it is translated as "wise words"

Sarno: a human, second chief of the village

Gormach: first chief

13


	43. Chapter 43 For the Knowing

**For the Knowing**

Glorfindel's POV

around Third Age 2950

Imladris

The sky above the cliff-walls this morning was hazy, and the sun had a pearly look. It looked like rain, and once rain-clouds had gathered here, they tended to hang over the valley for a considerable time. I wanted a walk and left the library quickly before anyone could get a hold on me again, making for the great door. At the corner I bumped into Gildor, who, taking the less used route from his and Raven's rooms, came bounding down the winding stairway towards the arcades and rounded the corner at the bottom with equal momentum.

"Umpfh. Oh – Glorfindel, I'm sorry" Gildor gasped.

"I see you have not lost any of your impetus" I laughed, righting the stature we had dislodged by our collision.

"I did not mean to prove it so…determinedly" Gildor said, colouring slightly, uncharacteristically. I was being knowingly ambiguous, but, I thought, I had learned from the best.

"I suppose you need some force when you are dealing with Raven" I gave the stature a last nudge with my foot and grinned when Gildor glared at me.

"We are not-"

"I know, and I would change it if I could"

"Don't you dare match-making" Gildor warned, but I only laughed "Walk with me" I invited him "I assume that is what you were planning to do"

"Yes" Gildor confirmed uneasily "If I am any good at weather-judging this will be my last chance for a while if I don't want to swim"

We slowly made for the back-gardens from where the paths leading away from the houses could be reached. I cut the walk along the terrace short by vaulting the low stone-ceiling and threading a way through the flower-beds. Then I waited for Gildor to walk the long way round. "You can afford to anger the gardeners alright, but for my part I rather wish to avoid that. I can imagine better things than having to make amends by weeding the beds" he said with a grimace when he reached me.

"Where's your shadow?" I asked when we reached the broader path and could walk side by side.

"There" Gildor replied blandly, pointing at the ground.

I growled "Don't start getting bitchy"

"_Bitchy?_" Gildor raised his eyebrows "I should think there are some biological prerequisites to that which I most certainly don't fulfil"

"_Where is Raven_?" I repeated with an amused sigh.

"Stables"

"You're not helping him?"

"It's my turn tomorrow. I appreciate one day when I do not smell like a horse myself"

"You signed yourself up"

Gildor snorted "Of course. What else do you think? That I'd start making trading-lists?"

"Why not?"

"Because Imladris would end up in purest chaos?"

"Oh come on. You coordinate your own company alright"

"That is definitely something different"

"So? I wonder"

"Stop trying to get me into trouble, Glorfindel. Raven is good enough at that. At least now Fairё keeps an eye on him – I suppose he'll think twice before riling _her_"

"Fairё!" I glanced aside at him "She's in love with Asfaloth"

Gildor snorted with laughter "Did she also tell you he is – _huge_?"

"No" I laughed as well "You know that mare of yours has a rather dirty ambiguity. Must have rubbed off from her rider"

Gildor grinned "I like it"

"What, Asfaloth's –?"

Gildor snarled "Glorfindel, I should think your time is too precious to waste it on bantering with me"

I frowned at him "My time is my own. I am not part of the council-room furniture, you know?"

"You don't have talking about my horse's love-life on your mind. And you had better not try discussing mine"

_Nonexistent one_. I smiled slightly "I know better than to try and discuss. But now that I have you here I can I just as well try. I want you to stop behaving like I am going to blow up any moment or turn into thin air"

Gildor did not appear to like this turn of the conversation "I am not -"

"You are. You have not been so…extreme before you brought Raven here. It is bad enough half of Rivendell thinks I am special or a wraith. I can't afford having my friend fall prey to the same silliness"

"Oh" Gildor said archly "And of course you are not. Just any Elf could be what you are…have become-" he broke off.

"Yes" I snapped "Anyone could have been had they been in my place!"

Gildor looked as if he could not decide between amusement or offence "I should very well know they couldn't. Have you looked into a mirror lately, Glorfindel? You shout 'power' to anyone who has command of two eyeballs and a little sense"

I stopped and Gildor marched past me a step and had to turn around.

"It was you who went forward back then" he said "Not anyone of the captains, not me. You!"

"And is that a reason to treat me like a ghost?" I demanded "I am here"

"I am not-"

"You're saying that quite a lot lately"

"What else do you expect of me?"

"That's not a fair question"

Gildor snarled "Damn. Do you have any idea what effect you have on people? I mean…people who have known you before?"

"No" I said "Enlighten me"

Gildor spread his arms in frustration "Flames, what do want to hear?"

"What do you want to _say_? There are not exactly _people_ leftwho have 'known me before'" I pointed out, leaning back against a tree "You are about the only one"

Gildor plopped down on a stone marking the path and stuck his knuckles into his eyes "Look, I know I am not what and who I used to be" I said after a while "There is so much…_distance _between me and what is going on – I am not here for myself, I am here because I was asked to return. For a purpose"

"I know" Gildor said finally "But that is the answer. You are…how absurd I can only describe you with dark-elven terms! Raven's people called us _vach'khan_, Glorfindel. They say we have 'power. Whatever kind that is. Do you see_ you _feel to _me_ like I must have seemed to Raven?"

I watched him thoughtfully for a moment "You _fear _me? Gildor, you of all the world should know better. You know _me_"

"I used to know you" Gildor said quietly "But now it is…you are not of Middle Earth any longer-"

"Neither are you. Neither were you ever"

Gildor shook his head "No. But not that way. You are…. Look, I just can't see you as the one who used to be my lover before a Balrog got in the way – I could deal with that as do you. But now…I'm doing my best not to imitate Raven and show a clean pair of feet like he does whenever Elrond turns up. If I were a wolf I would say you make my hackles rise sometimes"

I quickly seized the chance to turn into that direction "And yet Raven is with you"

"He has little choice" Gildor said darkly "There is no one else he trusts. Or wants to"

"He has no choice?" I echoed "He has all the choices of the world. He _chooses _to stay with you. What happened to make you think of yourself only as a placeholder?"

Gildor returned my gaze icily "You are telling _me_ how I see myself? Again?"

I shook my head "I know we need not discuss the past, because it is out of reach and out of change. But the present is in our hands still. If we have nothing to clear, why don't you let things return to normal? At least with us. And now answer me!" I added when Gildor looked away.

"I can hardly start acting as if nothing had happened!" he snapped "Even Elrond and Galadriel will treat you with respect. I can't go on calling you stupid peacock! My list of errors is long enough"

"You can't?" I demanded angrily "You called Gil-Galad a fool to his face. Since when do you care in any way for appearances? And what the hell is this about errors?"

I watched him, wondering what was going on in his mind and failing. To say it had to do with Mandos was pointless. _Of course _it had to do with Mandos. But we had been over that years ago. What made Gildor so uncertain _now_? He had become more reserved even than when we first met after my return. When we had marched from Valinor everyone had had more or less valid reasons. Gildor and Silmarusse had tried to escape the displeasure of their families and the confines of Valinorean law. Both had been lone wolves then, always managing to quietly outlaw themselves without being openly outrageous. I had taken what had seemed like a chance to me to save the peace in our family. Had I not, it would have been a question of time until I had found myself in the same position as Gildor and Silmarusse.

After Silmarusse's death Gildor had, if anything, gone to new extremes, living in the wild and taking his own revenge on the Orcs until something – _whatever that was _– moved him to join the groups slowly drifting towards the White City. And when he found himself once more on his own after Gondolin's fall he had gone with the Wild Elves. And stayed with them longer than the White City had ever stood. Though he never really broke with Eldarin ways and dropped out of our history as Raven's father had done, Gildor had effectively been gone out of mind or memory for ages. He had popped up for the long years of the Alliance, and the Long Winter had driven him to seek refuge in the valley with his rhevain friends, but it was only since it had become clear that Sauron had arisen again that he could be counted as an inhabitant of Imladris. All other events in the time between had effectively passed him but for hearsay. He always drifted about the fringes without getting into the thick of things – or rather, allowing himself to be drawn into them. He never stayed anywhere long enough to attract trouble. Or friends. Even for those of his Wandering Company he was primarily the leader, and kept them at a distance. If there were people he would call friends, they were rhevain. And of them I knew hardly more than their names.

"Silverleaf?" I probed "Is it…the thing with him that makes you hesitate now?"

Gildor snorted but said nothing.

"You…would be with him if those orcs had not got in the way. And now you can't give Raven what you would have given him?"

"Sometimes I rue that I told you that" Gildor said darkly.

I grinned "Too late"

"We agreed to…not wait for each other" Gildor said softly after a long while. I watched him for some time but he did not look at me.

"If neither of you takes the first step you will prowl around each other for ever" I pointed out quietly.

"Forget it" Gildor said abruptly "I am trying, alright"

"Try harder" I suggested with a sigh "I keep thinking it is my fault – _is it_?" I asked sharply when Gildor looked at me thoughtfully.

"I keep making a mess of things, don't I?" Gildor asked quietly "Flames of hell, Glorfindel, _how could it be your fault! _It has…I don't know"

I sat down beside him. There was a slight gust of wind, rustling in the trees and smelling of rain.

"You have spent an awful longer time here than I, you know?" I said after a while "You are…have become…no less strange to me than I may seem to you"

Gildor blinked "I have hardly gained anything useful in that time except trouble. You can't deny that"

"I can and I do. It is only a matter of difference. But this is not about power or wisdom or titles. It is about you and me. And it is about Raven, at least in your case. And I assume he would do anything for you if you gave him a chance"

"Glorfindel, please leave-"

"No, I am not going to 'leave him out of this'" I interrupted him "Why do you make it so difficult for him? You want him with you, but you keep him at arm's length"

"He _stays_ at arm's length!"

"Because you don't give him a clue. I have said this before, and you told me he would not cherish the idea. But why else should he stay? Not only because there is 'no one else he trusts'"

Gildor hissed in irritation "We would…we _will_…have to part in the end. It is…useless to tie something we _know_ that cannot last"

"So? Do you say so, or Raven?"

"It was a…a two-sided agreement"

"And neither of you is happy with it. Gildor, _you_ are not"

"No I'm not. But to Mordor with that. I have made mistakes enough! Glorfindel, can't you return to the original topic?"

I scratched at the rough surface of our stone-seat "Curse the old rock-head. Why don't you at least give your wolf a chance!"

"We were talking about the stables"

"Gildor, you make one want to bang the head against the wall. How does Raven stand it!"

"Raven sometimes makes you want to bang _his _head against the wall"

"Alright" I got up and held out my hand to pull Gildor to his feet after a moment "Alright, I give up. Let us walk, I think we will have some time still before it gets uncomfortable out here"

The rain came swifter than we had expected, and we fled inside from the terrace path when the downpour started. We had just reached the doors when Raven came across the yard from the stables, walking slowly with his head bowed against the wind.

"Hey" Gildor stopped him before the dark elf marched into us "You were supposed to clean out, not to roll in the hay"

Raven jerked out of his thoughts and narrowed his eyes as Gildor plucked a handful of straws out of his hair "Ask your horse. No, better, tell her I'll jump her box next time if she don't behave herself"

"She didn't kick you - ?" Gildor frowned. There was no telling what Faire would do if she was riled, I knew.

"Heavens, no" Raven laughed "What is it? I can't fool you so easily usually. And I didn't even want to right now. It's just a difference if you shove a horse or a horse shoves you"

Gildor shook his head "Let's go eat something"

Raven followed us into the great hall and we helped ourselves to hot food. I continued to try and draw Gildor out of his reserve, but so far I succeeded only moderately. He was cunning enough to avoid any obvious and less obvious traps I laid for him without looking as if he _did_ forge evasive answers. And Raven diligently remained outside our conversation. I would have loved to know if Raven knew that we had been lovers once. He and Gildor were definitely dancing around each other like wolves circling a burning bush. I watched their reactions carefully. Gildor let little of his uncertainty show in his interaction with Raven – no wonder the dark elf did not approach him. He seemed to have his hands full countering Gildor on verbal terms.

When we walked up to our rooms some time after dark, the cook hailed Gildor, and he went to answer the call. Pheasants again, I was sure. It was usually Gildor who went stalking them in the plains beyond the Rim. I seized my opportunity to hold Raven back.

"You know very well when not to say a thing" I observed with dry amusement. The last time I had spoken to him alone he had been furred and fanged. I tried to keep that in mind, tried to see both him and the wolf-shadow about him.

Raven shrugged uneasily "I know when I had better not make things worse by adding some foolishness of mine, you had rather say"

I laughed softly "You give yourself too little credit. I would not call you a fool"

"That's because I have been careful not make one of myself yet, I hope" Raven smiled "The Ashi'kha would deal with these things differently, and I do not wish to give Gildor's defence a crack by adding some comment of mine"

I watched him thoughtfully "Gildor did not tell you that"

"No. Faire did. She called it _blapped_. But I think she owed me a favour anyway"

Now this was interesting. "Then give me a _clue, _Raven. You're a _changewolf_, and Gildor does not act as if _you_ were some half-demon! I cannot have become worse than that, can I?"

"Oh" Raven stared at the patterned tiles for a moment.

"Do you know what you feel like to him?" he asked me after a moment.

"_Vach'khan_" The word felt strange as I spoke it "That is what he said"

"_Vach'khan_?" Raven looked startled.

"He said if he were wolf I'd sometimes make his hackles rise" I confirmed with a weak smile "And I assume you know what it takes to raise his hackles"

Raven smiled briefly "I suppose that always depends. Yes. But _vach'khan_ – 'power-holding' is only the simple translation of the term. Gildor knows the extended meaning of that, I think…the ritual code defines it as 'terrible power and 'binding power'…it means, the power can be used. As a force, too. _Vach'khan _things can be...both good and bad. The word can also mean 'untouchable'. If...he used that word, he was not intending it to be an image"

Raven hesitated, but went on "He knew you so well before. That is why you seem…even more changed, even more…_vach'khan_. To those who have never seen you before, the difference simply cannot be so striking and forbidding as for him"

"Forbidding?" I tried to find a balance between knowing Raven as a wolf and his utterly unwolfish assessment of the situation "Is that how I seem to him? Forbidding?"

Raven winced "I cannot account for Gildor's feelings, and I won't. I can only tell you he knows the full scope of _vach'khan_ and he will have meant it when he said so. Anything else, I guess"

I looked at Raven speculatively "I know you fear me though you hide it very well. And you are terrified of Elrond. But even you are not…not like Gildor around me. Why?"

Raven closed his eyes briefly"Your power is different"

"What! Raven, please be more elaborate, you are starting dithering like Gildor"

"There is a line between Elrond and the power he has" Raven said carefully "He can choose to apply it or not. In what way he will use it I cannot say before he does so – and that is the real danger the wolf feels. What makes _my _hackles rise, if you will.

That is the principle of _vach'khan_ - Elrond _holds _power. But you a_re _power"

I held my breath for a moment. Could it be that centuries after my return only a Dark Elf could really tell me what had quite a number of people so absurdly in awe of me? That would indeed be…a reason for a very good laugh. I had heard many learned explanations and descriptions of envinyata, but this…beat them all. It was so…simple.

And the simplest things always turned out to be those with the greatest impact. I let the breath out I had been holding "Oh" I said lamely.

Raven gave me a wry smile "If you want to know what makes you and your power so much different from Elrond's then _for me_ it is this…your power is your own wholly. The wolf tells me you cannot turn it to hurt"

"And Elrond can?"

Raven shrugged once more "It feels like that to me. And the wolf warns me so. If that is true, I cannot say. Gildor, I take it, would see it the other way round"

"Oh, my. That certainly poses a complication" I stared across the hallway for a moment before turning back to Raven "I don't ask you to account for Gildor's feelings, but I don't suppose your people have a way of making _vach'khan_ more approachable?"

"If so, I do not know it" Raven said finally. He looked at me straight for the first time "My people would say _Kor eshir yo khai shach'thor. _From the shadow, all light is blinding bright"

That had several sides. I assumed he was referring as much to himself and Gildor as to Gildor and me. I had no time to find an answer, because Gildor half left half fled the kitchen. Behind him something crashed to the floor, and we heard Laicando the cook roar. Gildor waited in the door for the noise to subside "Ten?" he mouthed at Laicando who remained invisible. Another crash, this time accompanied by a metallic _clong._

"Ten" Laicando shouted. Gildor shut the door hastily and grinned as he came over to us "They are putting up new shelves. _Try to_"

I winced "He wants pheasants again?"

"Yes. What do you say, wolf?" Gildor turned to Raven "Care for hunting when that clears up out there?"

Raven nodded "Yes. Where?"

Gildor shrugged "Eregion plains. Near the ruins, there are always pheasants. They shelter there all year round, especially now when they have young"

"How can you bear going back there over and over again?" I asked curiously.

"The plains?"

He was intentionally misreading me "The ruins" I said.

Gildor sighed "Why shouldn't I? It's gone, it's over, they're just ruins, empty and dead. If you are talking about Ost-in-Edhil. If I've learned one thing from Raven it's that ruins are just stones crawling with insects, lizards and mosses"

I glanced at Raven "Really?"

Raven gave a small smile "I phrased it differently, but that comes close. Shadows of memory hold little power for the wolf alone. Though he is aware of friendly and malign memories"

"Don't you go there with the Rhevain sometimes?" I asked Gildor.

"Scavenging, yes"

"Damn, Gildor" I said in exasperation "Stop expecting me to echo Elrond all the time. He can't accept that you do, and that's that, but I was just _asking_"

"Well, what do you want?" he shot back "You ask me to treat you as if you weren't a ghost and if I do, it's not right either"

I had to laugh "That's better. But I still wasn't going to accuse of that, scavenging"

"We weren't there for quite a while now"

We stood around in the dark, cool hall "What're you doing now?" I asked "Except throwing niceties at each other? Care for some sparring?"

"After dinner!" Gildor said with mock horror.

I glanced at his companion "What about you, Raven? I daresay there's enough I could learn from you"

He seemed taken aback a little but caught himself "Well, after a meal the wolf usually sleeps. I am not a good teacher, but we can try"

"You can do with some dirty tricks" Gildor said "You are fighting far too fair, you know?"

I grinned "Do you care for a test?"

"Well then, yes. You go ahead, I fetch the blades"

He was off, and I led Raven to the inside sparring area. The covered space was large enough to be used for training on horseback as well sometimes, and the floor was strewn with sand and sawdust. Three small rooms led off to one side, one for the weapon-master, one held an assortment of training weapons and armour, the third additional horse-gear.

"What's he doing?" I asked "We've got enough swords here to choose from"

Raven shrugged "What's the use if you don't train with your own first?"

"Well, maybe that I get only a swollen finger instead of losing half my hand if one swing goes astray? Our blades are _sharp_"

"I can pull my strikes quite well. We always do"

"The last time I saw you two at it you didn't" I said.

Raven laughed softly "By now he knows most of my moves that we don't have to hold back so much anymore"

Gildor returned with all our three blades a short while later. I caught mine as he cast it and glanced at Raven's sword. It was strange to see Anguirel here, as if time had turned back on itself. He handled the blade easily, unaware of the soft humming of power I could feel emanating from it. I would not have touched that sword any more than that he would have touched Vilya. But unlike Vilya's, I would not trust Anguirel's latent power, whatever it was. For a moment, I felt quite uncertain as to facing this blade, even if we were only sparring.

"You two first" I said with a small grin "I want to know what I am in for"

Gildor shook his head, his snappish mood gone as he took a place opposite Raven. No matter his spring-bear temper, he was always perfectly controlled when weapons were involved. An ability I had always admired in him.

"I already had a handful of years to train with Raven" he cautioned.

I shrugged "I did not yet have a chance to see Raven's fighting style close up. I think myself at least half-familiar still with yours"

Gildor shook his head "There are centuries between now and the last time we sparred – don't expect too many half-familiarities now"

Somehow we had never sparred since my return. He was right, as I saw when he and Raven stopped their warm-up sparring and got down to business. Gildor had never used a shield in real battle and generally made up for that lack of protection with his swiftness. With Raven he had found his match in speed, but he had also changed his way of fighting in general. Even when not using a second sword or dagger he had always been careful to keep a neat defence. He gave ground rather than risk that defence to be breached. Especially when fighting larger or heavier enemies he had used speed and retreat to wear them out and defeat them. Now he concentrated on attacking, moving forward relentlessly. That sacrificed not only his immaculate defence but also most of the tiny, deliberate motions that were usually trained in sparring. He and Raven were not sparring so much as really fighting. The only difference was that they both pulled strikes that would otherwise have been deadly. Except the occasional taunt and laugh I would have guessed they were busy assassinating each other.

Raven fought similarly, but he relied on attack completely and kept up only the crudest defence. A less experienced and swift fighter than Gildor would have unintentionally hit him several times already. The dark elf blocked only swipes that would have killed or maimed, and tried to _evade_ the rest. If that evasion would have cost him ground, he took the blow instead. It was skirmish-fighting, maybe not outright suicidal but completely unsuited to larger and longer battles. He used brute force to break through Gildor's defence, who either countered the violent attack or sidestepped it. Somehow, Raven still managed to pull his own strikes. I found it impossible to say who was at an advantage for a long while. They clashed like two bulls, neither giving ground before the other. It was an exhausting and merciless way of fighting which reminded me of Dwarves. The small sturdy Naugrim were fierce fighters, all flying axe and roaring advance. My aesthetic assessment of it did not keep me from admiring the effect. In a small fight or an ambush that strike to kill style would be absolutely on my side, also in the way of surprise. It was swift and incredibly dirty – they used stabs and feints continuously, tripping the other, twisting on the ground to swipe at shins. Gildor called a halt to it before either had lost or won. They were both sweating and out of breath already.

"You are mad" I stated emphatically when they dropped down into the sawdust beside me "Is that what you call sparring?"

"No" Gildor said happily, nursing a cut on his arm and panting "That was advanced Ashi'kha assassination practice. It took me years and years until I managed to at least hold my own against him, and longer to find a way to defeat him occasionally. And I have had years more of wielding a sword than he. He turns your whole idea of fighting head over heels. Go ahead, I want to know how long it takes you"

"At least let him catch his breath first" I said with laugh, glancing at Raven sprawled in the sawdust. Some trace of the Gildor I knew sometimes came through, but I wondered if it was only when he was unwary or relaxed enough to drop his own guard. Raven grinned, shaking himself and getting to his feet "We start quite slowly. I don't know how you fight at all, and you must base your feints on that, on your favourite motions. If you do that, you are quickest because you don't have to think which way to feint"

After a while we started out with the basic swipes, taking stock of the other's speed and skills. Raven took the defensive part first, and he countered nearly all my attacking strikes. If I had not watched the two fight before I would have far underestimated the dark elf, both for size and speed. Anguirel had a long hilt, and Raven accordingly held the blade with two hands, but he still was faster than that seemed possible. When we reversed positions, I found that I could get through much of his defence when he did not have the advantage of motion and unchecked attack. He admitted that readily when I observed it.

"I don't know about technique and fine motions. This sword is heavy for me, and I must use its weight in combination with momentum. If you get me slowed down I have a problem. So I don't bother stopping those smaller hits and try to get into the breach a hit usually gives the attacker for a moment"

After a while of getting used to each other we picked up speed and variation. Raven's style did not take defence into account, so I had to attack while he gave small instructions what I had to do when attacking him. My way of fighting was much different from Gildor's again, and I watched carefully what Raven did – or rather did not – to block _my_ thrusts. Mercifully he did not add tripping and stabbing yet. When I became too slow for his taste, he increased the speed again by attacking me. I was going to call a halt to this session when we once more misjudged the other's intention and he ducked instead of blocking my sideways strike. I pulled most of its force but left a shallow cut on his shoulder "Flames, sorry" I gasped, straightening. I felt Raven's blade tap my leg lightly. He glanced at me, faintly puzzled, straightening as well "Pull the strikes through. You could have won"

"What?" I looked at Gildor, who grimaced "Don't tell me that he's mad, I know it"

"I won't hurt you on purpose in training"

Raven shrugged "Your choice, my fault. Remember it when out there"

I blinked at his bluntness which held nothing of the shy reluctance that I remembered from the wolf. He did not only come as lose to disrespect as any being had in the last hundred years, I could not even say how much in earnest he spoke. Out of breath myself I stared at him, but he held my gaze this time, almost challengingly. Maybe I could understand Gildor somewhat when he said he did not know where he was with Raven.

"You mean that, don't you? Pulling the strikes through? I could kill you"

"That is my problem"

"You did that on purpose?" I demanded "You knew I would give you a glancing blow but you could have severed my leg?"

Raven spread his arms "So you see that? Why don't you act on it?"

"Come here, you both" Gildor ordered. He held a cloth to Raven's shoulder when we obeyed, giving me a wry grin "Make him happy and pull some force, but not the whole strike"

"You do that?" I glanced at Gildor, who shrugged "On the whole, we manage not to hit each other at all anymore"

Anymore. That wasn't a real answer. He could be vicious, I knew. If Raven riled him enough, willingly took the risk – no. It took much, much more to break Gildor's restraint than just riling and teasing. If they fought with sharp blades and counted hits it was a two-sided decision. I glanced at the ancient Noldorin blade lying beside Gildor absently. A sword forged centuries ago, in a land forever unreachable now by bended seas. One of Feanor's earliest blades. Finest smith-work but not much in the way of adornment – the hilt was smooth and straight, wrapped with worn brown leather.

"You know" I said after a while when I could breathe normally again "I never asked how you got by that sword. Feanor was as protective of his blades as of his Silmarils"

Gildor glanced at me uncomfortably. I thought he would not answer, but finally he shrugged "We got along well for a while…he was often in the quarries…But I was too young then. Years later he…we ran into each other one night, a few days after his…speech in the city. When it was clear we would march…After the oath. I thought he would storm past me, or spit venom. He was seething with rage…But he turned back and-and asked what I was going to do. We. He knew Silmarusse from the quarries, had heard about the…ceremony in Formenos. You know I had to…give up my house's sword after the ceremony. He…gave that one to me"

I blinked. Gildor had never even mentioned that before, never. I had assumed he had obtained the blade in Hithlum, after the reunion of the Feanorians and Fingolfin's house maybe.

"Oh my" I laughed faintly "You can give one surprises"

He shrugged once more "And so it came from Valinor with me"

Valinor. He could say that name without the slightest bit of longing. My memory of that land – our land - was good, recent indeed. I had agreed to go, to leave, knowing I would go back soon. It was there, I knew it, the feel of it was fresh and glowing in my mind. What must it be like for him, I wondered, gone from it for centuries and centuries. No chance to see it, feel it, and apparently no desire to do so, to ever return. Sometimes, it was like he hid the brightness inside him, the gentleness I remembered – what light he showed, he turned into ice, a cool, transparent but unbreakable wall for all around him. It was not, I realized suddenly clearly, that he hid himself as Elrond accused him sometimes. Gildor had no need to hide, to be silent. He would talk, he would be confronted, but he would not be changed. That icy barrier hid nothing of him, but protected him effectively. He _had_ protections. Raven, with his introvert shyness hid behind the wolf, hid behind the shadows that surrounded the strangeness he held for us. He hid in his own shadows, trying to show as little of himself as possible. Beyond that shadow, I guessed, he had little defences in the way of confidence. It was a curious twist that he would act as he did in this sparring, sacrificing defence for the sake of landing a hit. Paradox. In a way, it was a wonder that the two felt drawn to the other when they were so different. I shook my head "You are a strange pair, you know that?"

"Oh yes" Gildor said with feeling. He tossed the rag down "And don't you lie in that sawdust right now, Raven"

Raven, just preparing to recline comfortably, froze and sat up with pronounced care "Alright, alright, _i'tan'ka_"

"_I'tan'ka_?" I asked, puzzled.

Gildor sighed "Pack-leader. I wish he would stop that. Raven, you will not want to have all the dirt in that cut, that is why I said this"

I watched the two exchange an uncertain glance and sighed inwardly. Very well, this would have to play itself out either way. Light and shadow seldom got along well with each other – or they managed to produce twilight. I grimaced at my own bad metaphors. Muscles I had not known I possessed hurt and I was exhausted "I will exchange sawdust with hot water. What about you?"

They actually came with me to the bathhouses.

"What was it like in the west when you…before you came here?" Gildor said abruptly. I was glad I had just emerged from underwater and all my hair hung before my face because I nearly sputtered _What_?

"I mean…they say it is…a place of healing" he continued, unaware of my reaction. It seemed he could hardly form the words around his own doubts and rejection "What is there to fill those words? What can healing be except oblivion if they do not want regret after all?"

It was the first time he actually addressed Valinor by his own inclination. I took a while to think that over. "In truth" I said finally "I do not know. I do not know, because my memory is with me and…" I looked at him, at Raven. Knowing how things stood between them I could not for the life of me imagine what I should say or not say "…and so is regret for the past. The past that I lost, not for what I did. Maybe you are right that complete healing would also mean oblivion. I do not know"

"But you were there" he whispered.

"I was" I said slowly "But my memory of that time is…not complete, and I did not talk to many others who had…returned. I…agreed to come back as soon as They…proposed that to me. I would give you an answer, but I cannot"

Gildor stared down at the water "I am sorry. I should not have asked. I know it is…not allowed to speak for…envinyata either, here"

I bit my lip. Where had he got that choice bit of information? "If I had an answer, I would give it to you" I said. He nodded "I was just wondering…have they all forgotten what happens here, the…Valar?"

I wondered what he would have said instead of Valar. There was a glint of anger in his eyes, anger, I knew, at those mighty beings that had once ruled the whole world and now retreated into the west. Still, I _could _understand his anger.

"What would you have them do?" I asked softly "Come back here, or leave this world forever to itself?"

Gildor snorted "The latter and no mistake. But They did that already, didn't They? They could have taken their rules with them in the bargain!" I could feel how he caught himself sharply "Have they all forgotten about death?"

There were a million answers I could have given him, given him with knowledge, if not with utter certainty. I was grateful when unexpectedly Raven spoke "All except the Hawk"

"What?" we asked in unison, though with different vehemence. Gildor blinked and rubbed his face "Sorry. I…I remember. The hawk…carries the…fёar of the dead into the other world"

"So I said" Raven glanced at him uncertainly "The Ashi'kha say in that world…only the hawk will remember what death is like, but all those he has brought there will be free of that…recognition. I...don't know about…oblivion though. To us, it seemed…quite desirable, not knowing death anymore"

I knew Gildor was thinking what that might mean for Silmarusse and him, and decided I had better leave him to figure something out for himself. He would not welcome intrusion right now.

"And what is death to you? I mean…are wild things afraid of death? Not that I mean you are…" I broke off. I was not familiar enough with the relation between him and his unfurred part. Raven shook his head with a slight smile "Even Gildor feared to insult me with that. But I…my people…we do not see ourselves as different from wild things. We do not have that word, even. You see, what we call ourselves is "turns furred". There is no barrier for us as there seems to be even for you. But death…I do not know. I think…we have two words for death. One means death by…age, you might say. It does not really count for us. But that is…inevitable. I think maybe wild things do not fear that kind of death. We call it _bal_. It seems a known part of their lives, accepted as that. But I cannot tell you with certainty"

"But you are wolf"

"To be wholly wolf I would have to be unconscious of the fact that I am one" Raven smiled.

I had to laugh "That seems to have some merit"

"Beasts wear no masks" he agreed softly.

"What about the…other word for death?" I asked.

"_Koth_. Death by…killing. That sounds stupid but I have no other word for it. When you hunt, you deal death. I cannot speak for the Green Ones that are always eaten. But no beast of flesh wishes to die - to be killed, that is. No deer wishes to be wolf-prey, no wolf wishes to be shot for fur-coats. No Ashi'kha wishes to be speared by caribou-antlers. That death is feared. . Generally. If you call the Other Wind that's different. It is…I think this way of dying that will be forgotten in the Hawk's world. Because the Hawk's world is timeless _bal_ will not be there at all. But we…that world…it is, we think, for _everything_ that lives in this world. It is…something of a…mirror-world"

Raven had stared at the water between us all the while he spoke. Now he looked up "But yes, I _am_ wolf, too. And I wonder what will all those do who are hunters in this world if there will be no hunters and prey in the next world. I mean, for prey-animals in this world the Hawk's must seem like…how do you say? Paradise? But I…cannot imagine. It seems awfully…boring"

I nodded silently. Strange, how even our worlds sometimes seemed to overlap. A world where nothing happened, nothing changed – even we could not live in that. We had proven it.

"When peak-boredom has been reached" Gildor said softly into the silence "you will have rebellion. I speak from knowledge"

We stared at him. Then Raven burst out laughing. Gildor joined him, and after a moment I could not hold back either. Heads turned in the other bathtubs but we laughed until our bellies hurt and we could hardly breathe anymore.

13


	44. Chapter 44 Ghost of the White City

**Ghost of the White City**

Gildor's POV

Memories are the ghosts of real events _the humans said._

_That was not strictly true. Not for Elven memory._

Memories are shadows of the past.

_Neither was that true. They hovered somewhere in between, for those who knew that time passed. Felt that time passed. By now, they all knew, all felt it. Like mist, neither ghosts nor shadows had substance, yet both could be strangling. _

The ghost and the darkness,_ the humans said._ Drowning in memories.

_Insubstantial phrases all, if one knew their real impact._

_I remembered Gondolin well. _

_In retrospect, there had been no Gondolin without Glorfindel. Looking back, the time in the city was defined only by the time with Glorfindel. Before and after, that were different lives. _

_Remembering without cynicism was impossible. Unacceptable. _

_Raven's rule._ Never give in, not even to memories.

_Wise idea. Especially not to memories._

_The moons until that one on the cliff-shelf drew together into a mire of swift days, sometimes. When looking back._

_Memories were dangerous business. And not less so, when they acquired a new body and walked back into one's life and were still no longer memories and were become untouchable. _

_The wolf lived in the now. Raven did, most of the time. Which in itself was a paradox, because he was neither elf nor wolf. But that was not the point. _

Memories become regret.

_Even for a wolf, who was not wholly a wolf. Memories become regret more than treasures. He was right. And that from a dark elf who generally refused to remember. For just that reason. Everything about Raven was contradictory. _

_Well, who was not? _

_This was another life. Somehow._

_But Gondolin and Glorfindel, that memory tended to turn from treasure to regret as sure as the sun rose. And all of it was bound up with her. Silmarussё. The time before the City. I could not live without it, nor with it. It did not help, that we had gone through this, in Rivendell. We were reconciled to this. Still, different worlds, unshared memories, paths that no longer crossed. _

_The wise said that parallel lines would cross in infinity, but Arda was not infinite. Time was not. Unending, maybe, but not infinite. Intolerably long, if I was in a bad mood. If I remembered. And where was the sense to that all?_

_Long before Gondolin, a land full of new wonders, of endless plains and bright light. Middle-earth. So utterly foreign from what Valinor had been. Full of life. And change._

_Change and death become synonymous. _

_Raven again. _

_The wolf tended to be pessimistic._

Remember that I was good with a sword. And remember my laughter. Avenge me, and when you think of me, be able to smile. _Oh yes. I had fulfilled the first part. The part with an ending. I had taken our revenge, her revenge, for a whole year. On the night of the last snow I had tracked down the last of the large orc company, Fairё had pounded the last fleeing – fleeing! – orc into the frozen ground. Silmarussё was dead. We had avenged her. Now came the hardest part. The one without an ending, the unlimited time. And proved impossible for a long while._

_It was hard enough to decide, to add one more pair of feet to the train of fugitives who thought a hidden city, a golden cage, was better than constant war and flight. It was hard to leave the wild elven chieftain who had said "I count you as a friend, city-elf"_

_Gondolin. _

_After a year in the wild, a year mostly spent on horseback tracking and killing- no, if I was honest, slaughtering – orcs was not that quickly put into the "done"-file. It was my decision, and most of the time I did not rue it, but it was strange, doing it all alone. _

_Gondolin was luxury. There was still much to be done when we came there, when the gates were locked and hidden, but on the whole, it was purest luxury. Compared to the wild. _

_They finally found out who I was, enough had known Silmarussё, too. But everyone was trying to forget something, and things were handled discreetly. Things were not spoken about. There was enough work not to be thinking, not to regret. _

_Fine. _

_At first, we only shared taunts. There were a number of elves with fair hair, a number of canaries they teased. House of the Golden Flower, canary cage. The names stuck, canary, peacock, and it was easy to unite a front and find retorts. We shared free evenings, watches and wine-bottles. Military discussions were moved to the taverns when possible, four wings, four Captains and one would-be strategist and scout. The formalities were soon done away with when organization was staged there. The canaries proved a very good team, with a sense for strategy. They accused each other of being brainless peacocks and rock-headed pawn-movers. _

_Accusing the Lord of the House as a brainless peacock. _

_Wonderful._

_Still, we continued to share evenings, watches and wine-bottles, rides and hunts. _

_The city was hidden, safe – but not safe enough that Turgon would completely forget about defence. Watches, guards, soldiers, scouts, military matters were well organized. Among those who knew what they were doing now, not among those who were noble. Old traditions did not necessarily save lives. A few mutterings, a few dissentions, some enraged nobles, then matters were settled. Military leaders were a motley group of all former professions and all former ranks now, but they knew their jobs._

_A number of discussions, rearrangements of the guards, the scouts, the permanent lookouts, organization of training and exercise, and someone told me the Captain wished to see me. - _I want you to take the second wing. Celebdur gives up his office. I want the scouts in second wing, too.

_I was used to fighting on foot, fighting on horseback, assessing and passing on orders. I was scout-captain. That was enough. No need to command a whole force. _

So I thought.

_And the Captain the Second Wing had his schedule full, by his own scheming, but Guard and Scouts always provided work, even if there were but eventless patrols to be done._

- You can inherit Lord of the House, but you have to earn captain.

- I did not earn anything.

- So you keep saying.

_Inevitably, talk became more private. There were plenty of unwedded in the city, plenty of chances for flirting. All the more so for ones in the Guard. There was peace, as far as that went. I kept out of the flirting, trying to be inconspicuous. And inevitably as well, the question_ what about you? Isn't she the right one?

_But that coming from Glorfindel, I could turn the tables right here_. What about you? Enough maidens after you.

What about you?

_The question turned up again one night, autumn festival. A pause in the dancing, going out for a sniff of air and a look across the city. A frown at the other's persistence this night. _So what now

_- _She did not leave Valinor with me

_That was the first bit of information. _

_- _And do you intend to stay alone_. – Another frown. Conventions. _

_- _No, I do not. What about you_? Same question once more._

_- _No idea

_Time passed. Little happened in the town, the plain, the mountains. Not much forest. Be careful what you hunt, when, and where. Moreover, be careful how far you go. The mountains are being watched._

_I could not say how long we had actually been friends. I couldn't say when or why the decision had been made. If indeed there had been a decision at all. _

_Things happened, and went their way. _

_Fate goes ever as fate must. A mortal's saying. I knew that only later, when Tuor came. _

_Fate._

As long as I live my fate is my own.

_The wolf cared little. Fate or not, things went as they did. _

_Raven cared more._ While I live, Mandos has no hold on me.

I decide.

And yet things sweep you with them, and you just drift.

_So the question remained unanswered, who had decided what and when – if at all. It matters not._

_It had been still summer, that I remember. _

_Late summer, leaves turning already, the air in the plain hot and quiet and balmy. The air brooding over the white walls, shimmering. In the distance, the green-rusty coloured trees marching up the mountains' sides. Nothing at all happened. Or could be made to happen._

_We went for a ride, just the two of us. No one else wanted to ride across the sweltering plain. Towards the mountains, where there was always wind, and shadow. A strange day. It was too hot for joking even. We rode in silence, bareback, no weapons strapped to the horses. _

_There was a cliff, not very high, but high enough to look out over the trees below and across the plain. _

_A steep cliff. _

_Glorfindel had been here before, knew the handholds. _

_I did not, took a different route up, and the last part was smooth rock only. _

_Wonderful, climb down and start once more. And that in this damn heat._

_My companion laughed and reached down a hand before I had to descend again, pulled me up. _

- You trust too many people too much.

_Just the phrase. We unpacked a huge lunch. What absurd things one remembered -_

You do not speak the names of the dead_. That was the convention._

The dead live as long as someone remembers their names. _Ashi'kha tradition._

_Neither mattered then and there. _

_Out of the sweltering heat, talk was easier. _

_Yet the phrase hung in the air. Too much said, or too much heard. Still, clothing impudent questions in polite phrases. The city was confinement, especially in summer, and confines bred idleness. _

_Glorfindel had suitors enough._

- Why not trade flowers with _her_?

- What about it?

- You don't want to answer.

- Don't you see, or do you not want to?

- You speak in riddles.

- Then guess.

- My assumptions don't count. Give me facts. – _A frown._

- What do you assume?

- Does it matter? – _One of his typical smirks_.

- A hell of a lot if you ask me. _A pause. His oh-damn-it-look_.

- A hell of a lot if I'd rather trade flowers with you.

_Thin ice. And still, impudent questions lead to impudent answers, all of them in polite phrases_.

_It was out. And somehow, somewhere, I had wondered. No, it had not been a lie. I had made assumptions. Correct ones_.

- Who knows? – _A raised eyebrow._

- Ecthelion does. _A pause._

- And you, now.

_Had we made a decision? _

_Things go ever as things must._

_I had certainly tried to reason it out for myself. _

_Then decided, oh-damn-it. _

_Another gift. _

_And you do not throw gifts away. _

_Not such, not ever. _

_Conventions or no. _

_It had become a favourite saying by now, that the lily of the plain would sometimes sprout weird flowers._

_Just how weird, did they know, I wondered. _

It matters not.

_No. What mattered were the two of us. Then and there. _

– We're both in the same boat.

_Funny image, in a city of stone, ringed by masses of stone. _

_In the court, an image of two trees, silver and gold. Neither of us was comfortable with it. Too much to remember. To regret. We looked at the frogs in the bright, clear water. Laughed, when Ecthelion grimaced. Frogs in the courtly fountain._

_Everything in the world is a circle, the Ashi'kha said. Stars, moon and sun were round. Drops of water formed globes. Seasons turned round and round. Time is a circle - what comes around goes around. And the other way round?_

_Just nobody could prove that._

_We did not trade flowers that day. _

_What was handy was a feather, lying on the green grass of the mountain meadow. Black and shining, shimmering in many colours as the sun touched it. A raven's or a crow's. _

_The bird of death, of the battlefield, carrion eater and dark omen. _

_Convention once more. _

_Scavenger, taking from life what he could get, full of mischief and the lust for life. The bird of this world, the living one. The one who dreamed the world. _

_Ashi'kha tradition._

_Things are a circle. _

_When I came north and met the dark elf, I asked for the name. _

_Raven. _

_And there was a black feather once more, braided into the dark shaggy strands. _

_A black wolf, shaking convention out of tilt even more, a curious cross of elven, mortal and beast mentality. _

_And out of the past, Gondolin once more just as well, a white ghost of stone, full of memories and regret, fire from the mountains, and then shadow. _

_Sometimes the divine order of Ashi'kha circular universe seemed just a vicious circle. _

_Mistakes, wrong turns, loss that could have been prevented or at least shared. _

_Sometimes. _

_When looking back._

_Like shadows and ghosts, memories flowed into each other. Writhed around each other._

_Elf, beast and a perception of time that was like a mortal's, the wolf provided an anchor. _

- Then do not look back. When you hunt, look before you, never back.

Life is a hunt. If you want to live, you have to hunt. Take each day as it comes, because it will come anyway.

_When he was afraid, Raven was more honest._

_His own share of memories, affecting even the wolf._

Memories become regret.

- Say what you really think

_Almost a whisper_. – Memories can kill you.

-Do you say so, or the wolf?

- There is no difference.

- You hide behind the wolf. An _accusation._

_No smirk, but a shrug_. _A fact._

- It matters not.

_Wolf convention._

_If there was such a thing. _

Chapter Notes:

_The ghost and the darkness_ – clichéd film, but still great.

The phrase "drowning in memories" is from _The Liveship Traders_ Trilogy by Robin Hobb.

The military organisation of Gondolin here is absolutely my layman invention, assumption, or desecration, whatever. According to Star Trek, I hope I remember rightly, the order of rank is Admiral – Captain – Commander. I assume Lord of the House is inherited, though I don't know if it automatically goes with military leadership (which it seems to do in the _Lost_ _Tales_).

Canaries: for lack of a better word carrying enough teasing and insult at the same time. As there are no Canary Isles known in Middle Earth, forgive the transgression.


	45. Chapter 45 Shadows and Wishes

**Shadows and Wishes**

_I can remember_

_You were no stranger_

_As you came to me_

_Dreamers walking_

_And in that moment_

_Between two worlds_

_I saw the furthest star_

_Exploding all around you_

_And through the journey_

_You spoke in silence_

_And you made it clear_

_Walk in peace now_

_Then you touched me_

_Revealing all upon your way_

_Inside the burning fountain of time_

Gildor's POV

'Gildor'

"Gildor"

Someone was shaking me, annoyingly insistent.

"GILDOR!"

I awoke with a painful start, the dream dissolving around me. _Raven_ I thought. _What is he doing here? The city is falling -. The wolf can't be here-. _

No.

I shook my head and sat up, pushing my sweat-damp hair back. Raven crouched before me, looking worried, and as alien to all I remembered about Gondolin as could be.

_I shouldn't have slept_

Bad idea.

Glorfindel wasn't the only one with nightmares of white cities.

Sleeping instead of seeking the dream paths.

Stupid.

_Silmarussë._

I had not dreamed of her for a long time.

A very long time.

Why now, why today? The dream had been very…vivid. Though it was wrong, twisting the timeline.

She had never seen Gondolin fall. She had been slain many years before.

The city falling to bits around me was a familiar nightmare, one that held little power after all these years. The Balrog and what it implied was worse. But to find her dead body in the ruins she had never seen-.

Why dream of this at all? The ruins here were at fault. Silent and empty, Eregion was safe from the servants of the Shadow yet, but not safe from the lingering memories. How stupid did I get sleeping here, sleeping unshielded!

Raven was looking at me strangely. Something must worry him enough to break his own rules of privacy and reach out to touch me. He must have just returned from hunting, I thought, staring down at the fresh scratches on Raven's hand. Trying to catch some pheasants in the dark.

I realized I was shaking. Raven touched my face lightly. That was so uncharacteristic of him that I involuntarily raised my own hand "What-" I drew a hand over my eyes and felt cold tears "I'm alright" I murmured, rubbing my eyes.

"You tell me" Raven said half mockingly.

"Really…Did I…yell?"

"Not exactly"

I took my water-skin and splashed out some water to wash my face. The horror of the dream was still sitting cold in my stomach.

To dream of Gondolin was bad enough. To dream of her was cruel.

Glorfindel…the dream had begun far from being a nightmare. And it woke things I would rather have that remained buried. D_ormant_ was the right word, I thought bitterly. All the more with Raven so close.

"I…have to cool down a bit"

Raven gave me a long wolvish stare but let me leave our shelter with a silent nod, not remarking on the unintended double meaning. And for sure he had caught it. I threaded my way down to the stream, passing the crumbling walls and arches framing the narrow path. We camped in a cluster of ruins that had formerly served as storage-rooms, built around the cisterns. The Dwarves had dug up an underground spring here, long ago, and the Eregion-Elves had added a channel that lead surplus water away from the great cisterns. In time, this had escaped the smooth, paved bed and become a small river. I quickly skirted the cisterns which were deep and dark pools in the night, and went down along the channel to where the river now ran in a bed it had washed out for itself. The cold night air and the icy water dispelled some of my fuzzy feeling but did nothing to relieve the desperate longing these _goddamn it-_ memories called up. I shed my garments on the bank and cooled in the swift-flowing water until I was chilled to the bone.

Tears unnumbered-

I had better stop pitying myself. No one got through the First Age unchanged. I at least had got through unscathed.

I wrung out my hair. The braids had come undone and I worked the remaining knots out with numb fingers. Then I reached for my cloak and hung it loosely around my shoulders, hoping the cold night wind dried me before I turned into a living icicle.

I had to stop thinking of Raven. I had got it straight for so long, I mustn't even think of it now.Maybe if I sat in the cold long enough that cursed heat inside would be doused as well.

Silmarussë and I had lived with the knowledge that each battle might leave one of us stranded, just not believed it might truly happen to us. Of course not. If we had, everything would have been futile from the beginning.

And same thing afterwards, in the city. I knew how powerful simple desires could be. _Curse them. _They were worse than any temptation I could think of. They, and no torture or promise of wealth and power had finally broken down the traitor's pride and honour. I had lost this battle once before, after Silmarussë's death. Glorfindel had been with me then. While the White City still stood.

Maeglin had not been everybody's darling, but he had been no coward either. Glorfindel had disliked him. I wondered if today he hated him. Thanks to Eöl's son, he had taken a detour through Mandos to come to the Third Age. And things between him and me could never go back to what they were before either. And even now that he lived, Mandos lay between us.

Had I changed? _Glorfindel_ definitely had. What could we presume to share still? Desires? Maybe. Maybe not.

But this was not the point. We had made peace with that, with the circumstances. But not with the memories. Thinking of Glorfindel made me think of Raven again. It was him who troubled me, not Glorfindel.

You know the wolf's view on same sex pairings, my mind told me. _And it is only the wolf's, _a tiny voice whispered traitorously._ He thinks in terms of survival_.

I had no desire to draw the dark elf into this, and no right. All these years we had travelled together without that coming between us. A stupid dream was the last I thought I wanted to shatter that careful reserve.

I stared at the dark rushing river and tried to force my mind clear.

I had long ago realized that I did not want to leave. I did not want to die here, did not have the courage to do that, I did not want to sail either. So I had always gone on. And I had gone on very virtuous.

It should remain that way. Curse or no curse, I did not need to make it worse than it was already.

Sometimes the wolf was so right. The easiest way. But which was that? Go to him? Stay here?

Oh, I could not deny that I loved him. Desired him. And that was precisely the reason I could not let this happen. I had the feeling that the wolf would not care, and though Raven might share the wolf's opinion that it was not natural he certainly would not defer any judgement on it.

I simply had no right to act on some stupid base desire! I thought furiously.

Virtue did not do much to ease my longing.

Time passed. The river went on in ever the same rhythm.

I jumped when I heard a rustle behind me and reached for a sword that I had left in the shelter. Wonderful. As if these lands were a garden! Eregion, and maybe especially the ruins were safe, but there was no need to chance my luck so much. I found myself facing Raven, who had stopped a safe distance from me. Hesitatingly I reached for his mind and realized he had not closed me out in order to startle me. His shields were down, and I simply had been too occupied to notice him. I groped for my own shields and realized they still were not where they were supposed to be. I had not shielded after waking. I gritted my teeth. _Wary as a stag in heat._

Raven sidled down to the stream. His hair was tied back with a leather thong but hung otherwise unbraided down his back. I found myself unable to look at him.

"This is not a good idea" I said tightly when he settled himself with the comfortable ease of the wolf.

Raven tilted his head questioningly to look at me. Abruptly I turned back to the river. What did Raven know? Silmarusse- Glorfindel – he would have long since put one and one together, would he not? It was not as if Glorfindel had tried to be secretive, was it?

"You might not realize it but our…connection tells me far more than you probably wish for at the moment. It has grown much easier to read over the last few years"

I said nothing. I could say nothing "You see" Raven went on calmly "I realized in Rivendell that some suspected us to share more than just the same sleeping furs. Just that I did not join the talk does not mean I was deaf to the implications. Let them assume. Up to now, their assumptions have been wrong. You do not admit it to me or to yourself, and this is where I have always stopped before. I do not ask these questions, usually. But now tell me why. Why is this not a good idea?"

I stared at him then "You had better go. I cannot let this…happen"

I winced. _Please go, leave me alone until I feel like myself again._

'I heard that. Why not? Is that not – yourself as well?'

'Maybe. Yes. But that does not give me the right to…I know well you have no desire to…'

'You don't know half enough'

Raven uncoiled like a cat "Look at me"

"No"

"Well, at least listen. You asked me a long time ago about this. I think for the moment, not for years and years to come. It is a _long _time ago now"

That made me turn "Are you mocking me?"

Raven gave me a look of wolvish puzzlement "My mind is open to you. Use yours"

"Sorry" I rubbed my eyes.

"Also, we were discussing _cubs. _I told you I would think twice about unfurred cubs"

"Just because I…cannot control myself I cannot…use you as a substitute"

"Well, you know that I am not _her_. That would be difficult to pretend" Raven grinned insolently.

I hissed in exasperation. In any other situation I would have laughed at the ridiculous image Raven sent accompanying the first statement.

"I'm serious!" I said desperately. This was torture. And he teased me as if this was only a day's game.

"So am I. And neither would I presume to try to replace who was between her death and now"

"I don't want to _replace_ anyone-" I caught myself "You are goading me, curse your hide!"

Even if Raven came to me. _Especially _then.

"It is_ me_ then"

Smug, teasing bastard. I could have strangled him. But Raven was hiding nothing, keeping his shields down. And I knew what that generally cost him. Damn, he was certainly not playing with me. Why now? I had managed to get by without Raven noticing so long.

"Ah, but I did notice. I just kept my mouth shut"

Only a weak moment. Maybe I was just turning to the only person available. No, I knew I wasn't.

'And even if - '

'Even if! Raven, that's – dishonouring you! -'

Raven snorted. He reached out and caught my arm before I could withdraw.

"I am here" he said softly. "I make my decisions for myself. No one…'dishonours' me without my noticing. Or my assent, for that matter"

"No, and who does usually does not live to see tomorrow"

Raven bared his teeth, then grinned. "Right"

Abruptly, he was earnest again "If this is 'dishonouring' to you, I think our definitions of that are quite disparate. I love you. We have been friends for a long time. What should keep us from being lovers?"

I buried my face in my hands, cursing under my breath "I cannot, Raven, damn it, can't you see? It would not be honest"

"No?" Raven raised his eyebrows eloquently.

"Stop reading my mind!"

"Stop lying to me"

"I don't"

"No, maybe not" Raven looked at me thoughtfully "You lie to yourself"

"You had better get back to the cave, dark elf" I said with forced calm "Now, before I kill you"

Raven smirked "I could challenge you to try. Gildor, damn it. We both have our share of memories that haunt us. You…once told me not to clutch my memories of Fingal, but to make new ones. I cannot – not alone. So…we could…make new memories…for us – together"

I took a deep breath "You know exactly when it is the right time to fling my words back at me, do you?"

Raven gave me another wry grin. "No. Seems I was lucky now, though. Usually I hit the wrong pot. I mean it, Gildor. Maybe I can take your counsel now. Go along with your own.

I do not know your people's laws. I do not care for them. There's only me, and you. Who holds you back? Who has the right to bind you to somebody long dead if not you yourself do it?"

The Valar, I was going to say, but I didn't. They had cursed me and all my kin anyway.

I tried not to make rash decisions. But I did not have the strength to debate further with myself if one more digression made my situation worse or did no longer matter anyway. We had never made a formal, acknowledged bond, Silmarusse and I. My honour then. No, I was not binding myself to the dead, was I?

I felt Raven watching me. He knew that. He had known it before he ever followed me out here, not just from our unshielding right now.

"I don't care for honour" he said quietly after a while "And then, I know that is not true. Honour is pride. But this is different. We have known each other for so long now. I do not need pride as a protection any longer, not with you. And you live. Honour does not keep you alive…Gildor" Raven reached up to touch my cheek "You _live_. Silmarussë is gone. Glorfindel lives, but he…his path is different from yours now. You are doing what you told _me_ not to do. Not to love ever again. Don't you realize that quite a lot has changed – with us, as well?"

I couldn't help it. I looked up sharply now "Ravens don't cross the sea, do you remember _your _words? I said so because in the end we will part, to spare you that…to spare _us_ that"

"And what do you think I should do then?" Raven demanded "Love and never touch you? We have come a long way, you know. I am not going to stop here, now. At the sea is soon enough.

I will not talk against your honour, because you left me mine as long as I clutched it. But Silmarussë you said would not bind you. And Glorfindel I know does not"

I flinched "What do you know-?"

"I know what he told me" Raven said "Which is not much, but I seem lucky tonight hitting right into the black. You keep more honour by moving on than by only remembering. You have listened to the wolf before – listen to him now. Don't play dead before it is the right time"

"And if this is the right time?"

"It is not. You would not try to…get rid of me otherwise. I am not binding you to anything. If it is only this night, then it is. If it is more, we will find out tomorrow. Take your own counsel back from me. This is you. And if no one binds you - then here I am"

"Raven-" I got to my feet and walked to a tree a few feet away, thumping my fist into the bark angrily. This was wrong. This was…I wanted him so desperately. I laid my brow against the cool trunk. Raven followed me after a moment and put a hand on my shoulder until I turned to face him.

"What?" Raven demanded again "You are not keeping this back out of pride. Through all the years we shared the furs you never said a word. You pushed it all away – and I said nothing because it was your decision. Is it because of me? The wolf?"

I shook my head mutely. Could I have known he would not – reject me? No – and just like Raven wanted to avoid giving himself away, so did I.

"And what if I had not…pushed it all away, as you say? What would have happened then?"

Raven blinked "Maybe it was my fault. I should have confronted you earlier. This is not a good time to talk the past years through. But the same would have happened, probably. Only sooner, and maybe easier"

I pressed my back to the tree. I knew I would have turned and run had I been just a little less proud "There is no easy way"

"And to run is to admit defeat"

"Stop reading my mind!"

"Is that what bothers you?" Raven snapped "I don't think. If there is no easy way it is because your people _make _it difficult" He stalked off. He did not go far, though. I could not see him, but I sensed him. He was leaving me room to decide. And made it double hard. All after this would be my decision.

And what else did I expect? What could he do? Seduce me? So I could rest my mind on that? That it had not really been my decision? I growled. Was I turning into a villain after all?

Raven's POV

Gildor had never brought the subject up between us in earnest. Now, I was sure it had been because of our initial discussion of this. Or rather, the few things about nothing particular we had discussed. He had not understood, as time passed, that I had spoken about cubs only. The concept of _pach'ysar_ did not exist in his world. They cherished changelessness. Things did not shift their meaning much, for one. This was not about cubs. He had applied what I had said about _nok'uni_ to all kind of mate.

Now that I had made that clear, why did he still feel so tormented about the situation? Did he feel constrained by some of his people's curious laws again? A disadvantage when people were no longer enough busy with survival – they began to invent strange rules. I was certainly not bound by them, but if Gildor considered this to be _wrong_, I would not go ahead and convince him otherwise.

On the other hand, I could not ignore the immediacy of his feeling. My own feeling. He knew I loved him. He knew I had no objection to anything that might entail. Why then was he turning away? He had acted quite wisely, wolvishly before, saying he and his partner did not bind themselves by their people's law. I tried to order my churning thoughts and wondered if it was worth the bother to order. I was not good at reasoning, and the wolf had a clear path, now, as always. But the elf-part wanted to reason, and the wolf had to comply. The Ashi'kha were not many – enough to avoid inbreeding, but not all offspring survived the first year. To keep the pack alive, mating was generally retained to male and female. But to have a mate for cubs did not exclude another partner. We had not discussed what was counted out of 'generally', but by no means headed under 'wrong'. I had considered courting him. Often. Just neither of us had taken the first step, and he would not have known my people's ways of courting anyway.

I had not sensed any deeper interest except curiosity about my people behind Gildor's question. Perhaps there had not been. We had not known each other long then, and essentially had talked about Silmarussё, not about wolves. It was so long ago, the way I sensed time to pass anyway, and Gildor had never broached the topic again in any way. We had linked minds often enough since we knew each other. He had obviously concealed that aspect just as diligently from me as I had kept Joy and her - _our _- cubs hidden.

Ours had been as much a temporarily limited and steered union as any other wolf pair's – to produce offspring with the most suitable partner. Yes, wolves usually mated for life, but Joy had been quite aware that I would not be a permanent partner. One year, one litter of cubs, right. Which did not mean it did not bring pleasure. Yet it bound neither. As no Ashi'kha union would bind the partners forever by any law except if it was their own decision. The Ashi'kha concept of union was not heedful of gender either. If I wanted to keep the distinction between love and desire, there was little difference if a union was motivated by either. If I was honest, I felt both.

That Gildor did not know all this, did not know the principles I had acted on, if principles it might be called, I realized only now fully. I had been a fool.

I had always avoided thinking about partners in earnest, avoided the closeness a pairing brought. Between wolf and elf, I could keep desires at bay. Could simply _not allow_ myself to feel them.

I was risking all my reserve of the last years if I went on now. As long as I did not allow myself to_ need_ someone, I was independent. And I was safe. The thought of revealing personal things to a partner with the risk of that partner leaving with the knowledge of your secrets was terrifying. And it was betraying me. I needed Gildor. I had already admitted that to him long ago. But maybe never fully to myself. I would not leave him. I was frightened that he would. And then I knew that he feared the same.

Gildor's POV

After a while I pushed myself away from the tree and followed Raven. He had gone down further along the river. The ruins were behind us, but some birches grew here now, leaving a space open between them and the river. Raven sat curled up on the grass and stared at the dark, rushing water as I had done before. I stopped at the edge of the trees. I said "Raven", but then could not trust my voice to go on. He turned at the sound. He got up and crossed the distance between us, slowly, stopping an arm's length from me.

I found myself breathless. My heart was thumping painfully. There was a line between us, as if drawn visibly in stark red ink. And we both found it hard to cross. Like the sea it was a one way path. It had lain between us years back, in the cottage, loomed behind the simple decision of travelling companions. But this was more. Much more than that.

Not in the expectation of binding each other, but in giving oneself away. With no security.

How was it that Raven would do this? I could not think straight. I could not think at all.

When I did not draw back, Raven closed the space between us. He touched my face lightly, then rested his hands on my shoulders.

'Take it off' Raven tugged at the cloak. I shook it off. I raised my own hands to touch Raven. I fumbled at his neck and freed his hair from the tight leather thong holding it back. Uncertainly, I touched the smooth, slightly curled black strands. It wasn't as if we had never touched before. We had slept side by side uncounted nights, bathed together, braided each other's hair – but never with that purpose. Never allowed more than tenderness.

Unshielding like this was reckless, I thought briefly. I could feel the wolf, not tugging somewhere at the edges, but completely there, blending with Raven's mind. Even married couples took long to reach that point. That was a silly reserve. He was Ashi'kha. We were mind-speaking like lovers since ages.It was hard enough to keep my own desire in check right now. To feel it, with this close connection, answered by wolf and Raven was almost too much. Raven pulled at the sling-knot that held his loincloth in place and let it drop to the ground. Without thinking I pulled Raven towards me and into a fierce kiss. He responded immediately, pressing his body against mine without hesitation. His quick breath tickled across my cheek. After a moment Raven pulled us both to the ground and rolled over so that I found myself half on top of him. The still thinking part of me registered that, the wolf's statement in this, knowing Raven always avoided this position at all cost and in all things. He did not even _sleep_ on his back.

He did not falter once. He made up for his inexperience with fierce desire, alternating gentle caresses with nips that were remindful of the wolf more than anything else. And the wolf's emotions just _were_. No constraint, no filter of moral or reason. Raven did not bother to restrain the wolf, giving me no time to grasp any firm thought. I felt the wolf tugging at the last shreds of control I retained. I fought it back. The wolf fought me.

Raven dug his fingers into my upper arms and held me. He twisted slightly and drew his knees up on either side of me, pressing our arousals together and growling into my mind. _Stop thinking like an Elf. Think like a wolf. _

_Is that a challenge?_

_Yes. Take it!_

I could not say if Raven referred to the challenge or the gift he was offering in this. Probably both. I increasingly found ordered thought out of my reach and shook any guilt and hesitation off, following into the raw desire of the wolf.

Raven had always been paradox, I thought later, trying to come to terms with myself. He was close as an oyster for years on end if he so wished, and the next moment he threw all restraints away and broke down any walls between us.

Raven was holding me in his arms, and now curled tighter around me 'You are shaking'

'I am cold'

Raven snickered softly 'City-elf. I am not'

'Barbarian'

Raven tugged lightly at the wild elves' metal plaque I always wore.

"Why didn't you stay with them? The group whose chieftain gave you this?"

I rolled over to face him, scanning his face thoughtfully. Raven did not grin, even smile in triumph at surprising me. He had not read my mind, was simply asking.

"Bearclaw" I said "He was…is, still, I assume…called Bearclaw. This… it came in useful several times"

"Yes, I guess so" Raven turned the chip around, scanning the symbols on the back "Well, I can't read these, but they don't often give them away. Never, as far as I am informed"

"No. How do you know?"

"Remember? Fingal and I traded with them"

"I thought they only trade for metal. What did you two have they could want?"

"Ah. Not metal. But bone blades. Like the one I have. There are a few in Wolf Clan who know how to make them as hard as they are, and they don't break as easily as flint shards. The wild elves would trade for them as well if they could not get metal" Raven hesitated "Hawk Clan. You know, _khai'toh_, that this is funny coincidence?"

"Coincidence? You are _wolf_ clan"

"But the hawk is…"

"Well, sacred. That is what you said. The bird carrying the souls of the dead…"

"Hm. Yea. You know our creation stories. There is no hither shore and no west. We have hawk and raven: the spirit world and the real world. The raven is our bird, the one we can understand really. He looks for a good life. He will hunt just as happily as steal carrion. He lives in loose clans, he chooses his mate, and he tries to get the best out of life. The hawk, he is the spirit flyer, the one who gathers the dead to carry them into the spirit world. What he knows is nothing the raven cares very much to find out personally. That is not how Nightchaser would tell the tale, but close enough. Hawk and raven fly in different airs. Literally and figuratively"

"So…did that come into your choice of Raven as clan-name?"

Raven hesitated "Yes. I can…could never identify very much with the hawk. But…the wild elves mean much to you. Yet you never talk about them. Or the time you spent with them"

Blood-hound. "I don't talk, hm?"

Raven returned the crooked grin "Yes. You don't talk either. We're a good pair, really. Well?"

"I don't know. Honestly, Raven. Happy goes lucky. I don't know why I didn't stay, I don't know why I went into Gondolin, and I don't know why I kept going back to my own people after all. It doesn't look well in biography, but there it is"

"You miss them"

"Sometimes, yes"

"You know, had you stayed we would not be here now. I would not be here" Raven paused "You reproach yourself for drifting. What else did I do? I had my direction while Fingal lived. After that, all I did was reacting. Looking for the easiest way out, the smoothest path to travel with the least hurt and risk to myself. I still do. And if you do, too, you know, no wolf would ever reproach you for that"

Raven shamelessly moved his ministrations further downward. His unbound hair tickled on my belly. By necessity the wolf used his tongue for a lot of things and Raven had already proved that he shared the wolf's habit in other things - but for this -.

I felt my breath catch.

"Very much alive" Raven murmured "I am going to remind you when you next consider turning yourself to stone"

"You know where you are going" I half asked half stated with closed eyes.

"I know what I am _doing_" Raven corrected softly "For a change"

And how quickly the wolf adapted to change. I traced the intricately knotted lines and symbols tattooed on Raven's arms and shoulders. They snaked over his collar bone and terminated in a triangle on his chest. In some places scars had been tattooed over, in others the design had been broken afterwards by newer scars.

"What mean these?" I finally asked. Oddly enough, in all the time we had walked together I had never seen fit to do so, maybe never dared to. I knew that some wild elves considered the meanings secret, and would guess the same for the Ashi'kha. Raven sat up, straddling my hips and considering the question in obvious earnest, twisting a lock of my hair thoughtfully. The colour never failed to fascinate him.

"A lot, or nothing at all. It depends on the wearer. The way they were meant to show things. The way they were…made" He smiled wryly. "It's hard to explain in Quenya. It lacks half the words I would need"

"This?" I pointed at the triangular, symmetrically twisted design that wound all the threads together and terminated them. Raven's eyes glittered in the darkness as he leaned forward.

"The wolf" he said softly "Or the elf. Furred. Unfurred. It is one and the same – and yet separate beings. I cannot explain. Ask Nightchaser one day. He talks better"

"Nightchaser. What is your connection to him? I thought he was the shaman of your clan"

"He is" Raven avoided my eyes for a moment "I trained as shaman for a while"

"You what?" I blurted.

Raven shrugged once more "Yes. _Trained_. I made it very clear I would _not _want to succeed to his place. But yes, that is why I know a few bits. And why I _don't _want to go further. Why I am raven and not hawk"

I shook my head incredulously "You're definitely weird"

"Look who's talking" Raven grinned ferally "Besides – do you want to talk, or – enjoy yourself?" He shifted slightly and leaned forward.

"You _are_ wicked"

I caught his face in my hands before he could return to his business. It was hard to assess this very different Raven, and decide which was one of his obviously innate paradoxes and which had been only reserve.

"And you honestly tell me you never had a mate before?" I asked him gently.

For a moment Raven looked as if he would not answer and dropped his gaze again. He placed a hand on the ground beside me to push himself higher.

"She…was not…elven"

"Mortal?"

"In a way"

I searched his face thoughtfully.

Slowly, very slowly, something dawned on me. I reached up to lay my hand on Raven's chest, covering the tattooed symbol.

"I see"

Raven closed his eyes for a moment "Yes, but do you understand?"

"No. But it doesn't matter anymore" I paused, lowering my hand "Will you stay with me? Beast of shadow?"

"Yes" Raven said simply.

When I woke at dawn my first panicked thought was that we had been deadly careless to even _sleep _through the night out here afterwards. That dispelled any drowsiness. I forced my racing heart to calm down and think. _Yes, _think_ for a change._

But why should I? Did the wolf think so much? No. And he was better off with it. All my thinking had got me nowhere, ever, hadn't it?

Since we were lucky and no Orc stumbled over us, at least I did not wake up beside a wolf! Gently probing for Raven's sleeping mind I could share his constant awareness of the country around us. Not even while sleeping Raven's amazing perception slipped.

Would_ I have cared had I woken up beside a wolf?_

I could not decide. Raven was not wolf now, most certainly not. I snuggled closer to his warm body and reached for my discarded cloak to pull it over us. The forest floor felt cold still. The moment seemed too good to miss a second of it sleeping. Nevertheless I drifted off into a doze again after a while.

The warm autumn sun woke me when it rose above the treetops. I found Raven sitting beside me, facing the sun with his eyes closed and looking very little civilized. In the bright light the tattoos stood out against his tanned skin. His still damp hair hung in a wild mane over his shoulders, a few leaves and twigs still caught in it. River water dripped from the curling tips. Raven opened his eyes and turned to look at me. He gestured towards the river with his chin. "_That _wakes you up very effectively"

I looked down. I couldn't help it. Some reserve of last evening was back, no matter we had left it so far behind a few hours ago.

"I _am _awake" I got to my feet and walked towards the bank, feeling Raven's eyes burn into my back. I did not turn. The water was as icy as last night. I waded deeper to wash myself, trying not to let the cold take my breath away. I sputtered as I came up after immersing myself in the rushing water. I had better be grateful that there was no ice on it.

I wrung out my hair and fled the river. Raven caught my gaze, and I found I had difficulty meeting the intense unguarded stare. There was more of the wolf in it than I felt strong enough to counter at the moment.

"So we've done it"

"Do you regret it?" Raven did not leave me out of his eyes. I felt faintly surprised he would speak when he could easily have sent. Neither of us had yet shielded against the other.

I sat down beside him, grateful for the warmth the sun still gave "No" I said after a moment "Not at all"

"Then why are you…you feel like…prey that wolves are pulling in different directions"

I stared at the grass "It has nothing to do with you"

"No?" Raven asked, smiling crookedly.

"It is not your fault" I amended.

Raven looked at me thoughtfully "The wolf lives…for the moment. I have followed him close enough to do the same – whenever I can"

I swallowed "I started this. You merely…picked it up from me"

"Do you really think that?" Raven laughed softly "With so much determination? If anything, at least I _decided _to follow your…example"

"Raven, please!"

What would they all say? It matters not. So the wolf would say. It matters not. It has happened, and that is it.

"Gildor" Raven reached out to touch me lightly "Your people are always looking for a why. I can tell you how we came here. But never why. Can't you just take it as an it is? Now?"

I closed my eyes for a moment, feeling suddenly very tired of all I tried to get to make sense. Raven moved closer and took me in his arms. Unshielded, I was aware of his helplessness, seeking to give comfort by simply being there when words failed. I relaxed into Raven's embrace gratefully "I will try" I said softly. A light wind rustled the yellowing leaves and wafted the scent of moist soil and mushrooms through the forest. A few birds piped. That was what counted, wasn't it? It was as Raven said – in the end, time would only leave this untouched, because it kept changing. In Ashi'kha legend nothing was constant – nothing was predictable except that the seasons changed. Ashi'kha tales seldom answered why. They told how. And no wolf would blame me for the easiest way.

"No" I amended finally "I will. I…think I will…pretend I'm a wolf and…live for the moment when I can as well" If that was all I could do, I would at least be good at it. Raven leant forward slightly. When I looked up I saw him grin evilly "You know what?"

"What?"

"_Think_ like a wolf. But with your aversion to mice be glad you are no true changer"

For a moment I stared into his face. Then I reached for a handful of leaves and threw them at him.

Chapter notes:

Lines at the beginning from the song "Between two worlds" by Uriah Heep ("Sonic Origami")

Tolkien did not use the word "barbarian" in his writings, not in the sense of 'stuttering/blabbering' or 'uncivilized' - I assume the Quenya equivalent would be something like rava (which fittingly also means 'wolf') or Hravani ('wild ones', rhevain in Sindarin, I think) (for non-Edain men, _War of the Jewels_).

13


	46. Chapter 46 Werewolf

'**Werewolf'**

Imladris, early summer TA 3018

Raven's POV

I moved forward to stand on the edge of the cliff, looking down on Rivendell. On this ledge far above the houses of Imladris the wind was true mountain wind, blowing unhindered and strong. It was cold, and the scent of snow sometimes wafted down from the heights, mixing with the peculiar scent only mountain forests produced. The pines here were thin and high yet a little scraggly from harsh winters.

Still, this was not wolf-clan territory. Sometimes, in the long winter nights, the howling of the wolves in the plain carried down into the valley, ever so faintly. It seemed the steep walls were closing in on me then, cutting off wind, sound and scent. I wanted to answer them, if only for the sake to hear that they had heard me. It was strange comfort not to have to worry about the day's food, though. The days were long that way, and I had much time to realize just how different wolf-clan's life still was from _this_. No matter how often Gildor and I came back here, I always felt the same confusion I had experienced the very first days in the valley long ago.

It was early morning, and the sheer cliffs and white mountaintops above glowed. Crows flew across the valley, performing breakneck manoeuvres where the wind broke on the cliff walls. The valleys of Wolf Clan's mountains were less green than Imladris, but the cliffs there tended to be steep and bare like these. Even the colours they got in the changing light were similar.

The wolf was easy to please. He could almost feel at home here.

I came up here when I was at loose ends. I had picked inconspicuous things to do in the valley, usually tasks no one else was burning to take over. Cleaning the chimneys, stable duty, wood-chopping, those things were circled for the sake of keeping the peace. But I rather shifted horse dung three days running than to risk any duty that might force me into a lot of interaction with others. I sat down near the edge of the cliff and unwrapped the still warm bread and dried fruit I had brought from the kitchens. By now, I knew my way around enough not to get mad with boredom when Gildor was busy with some discussion of military matters. I also knew where to get food and where to eat in peace – I could find no heart to dare the great hall alone for the morning meal.

I had finished my breakfast and was dozing in the sun when Gildor´s sending made me bolt upright. Compared to the image-emotion-mind-speech on Ashi´kha-level we usually shared a worded sending like this had the feeling of someone dropping mental rocks into a quiet pond.

'Get your ass down here. They killed a werewolf' Gildor´s inflection on the last marked it as I-don't-know-what-else-to-call-that 'You should have look'

I shook the dizziness off and rushed from the ledge, wishing I could call the wolf and be down in the valley in no time. I bit down on it and leaped the fallen pines on two legs. Who knew what would happen if I called the wolf in the valley! Anyone with a little sensitivity for those energies would know. Elrond would surely know if he was using the ring then.

It was a wonder he had not yet picked on me anyway. I had felt suspicious eyes on me uncounted times before this winter. Glorfindel knew, and only loyalty to Gildor probably kept him from telling what he knew. Damn that he was not here _now_. We would have to deal with Elrond on our own.

I came down a narrow path at the back of the smithy and circled around the buildings to get to Gildor. There was already a small crowd in the higher courtyard in front of the stables. Gildor was looking for me, standing at the edge of the gathering. I heard the muted discussion going on but could not make out the words as it was conducted in Sindarin.

'What did you tell them?' I asked worriedly.

'Nothing so far. Let´s go to the front, you will want to see this'

I swallowed when I saw the creature. No wonder the Elves were unhappy with its appearance here. I had seen what was commonly called werewolves before. Those that were intended to ´serve´ for some time remained relatively unchanged, remained wolf in appearance. They were usually the easy ones to deal with – a spell could be broken without being a sorcerer or shaman. Nightchaser had taught me how to either break the spell that held them or drive away the spirit-thing that possessed them. If all failed, I knew how to kill the wolves.

Those that were intended for short use, as it seemed, sometimes appeared changed so much that the humans´ naming them ´monster´ was justified. They had to be dealt with much more carefully. The spirits that possessed them were strong, though their hold on their involuntary host could be wrenched away as well.

This wolf here was one of the changed. He had been practically skewered whole by a spear, and judging by the angle it had been driven in, the wolf must have taken off from a higher point than his prey. That was cat-style, and one more sign this attack had not been a wolf´s choice. Without sharp retractable claws to keep a hold on the prey it was useless to jump on it from above just to slip off to the side. A wolf preferred to keep his four feet on the ground to kill. This one had not been dead for very long and the Sindarin scout who had encountered and killed him still looked pale and quite ragged. He leaned on his short spear and listened to someone's agitated questions.

Elrond arrived about the same time as Gildor and me, with a dark look on his face. He examined the wolf briefly and turned to the scout who had killed it. I swallowed my uncertainty and moved forward to have a closer look for myself, trying unsuccessfully to ignore the glances I got from the bystanders as I knelt beside the dead wolf.

This had been a rather young wolf, three years at the most. The fur was rank and stiff and there were bare spots of skin. Changed fangs, so long they protruded from the jaws. They would aid considerably in killing but prevent the wolf from chewing. I rolled the carcass over. The fur around the neck was not the thick protecting ruff it should have been and showed marks of a chafing collar. The claws were too long to run comfortably. Add the unclean smell of sick wolf and I guessed the wolf had been cooped up in some cave or dungeon without much exercise for a long while. He was not starved, but lacked the muscles any normal wolf that ran several miles each day had.

That much was obvious to me, and, I thought, to any good hunter it should be obvious as well. The Elves standing around appeared slightly repelled by my unconcerned handling of the creature. Well, they were disgusted by orcs because some thought they had once been elves. I did not care what they had been before, but I knew that this, what they called werewolf, had started out as simple wolf. Not centuries, but a few years, maybe moons ago.

And when the host died or was killed the spirit thing was driven from it and vanished, probably back to the Shadow that had spawned or enslaved it.

_Like a houseless fёa_.

The thought came extremely unbidden and I shoved it away angrily. I got up slowly, not taking my eyes from the wolf. If the spirit was driven out without killing the wolf, I could force the changes back so that the wolf survived, unchanged. I had only done that together with Fingal and wondered if I alone would have the power to do the same.

But this wolf was dead, so the question was first, what had he been doing here? Elrond called a few names and dispersed the small crowd. Two hunters picked up the carcass and carried it away. Elrond turned to the remaining elves briskly.

"You two ride circuit with your groups. Faranaur, you take at least five and go up to the Rim. Meet up with the scouts there and conduct a damn good search along the Rim" The addressed ones nodded and went on their way "Gildor, you and Celebdur are our best assassins – I want you to go after the pack, see where they went, and kill what you can"

"Er-" Gildor began, but my hasty "No" interrupted him.

"No?" Elrond turned to face me. Gildor winced in sympathy. It was the sort of ´No´ that usually froze people right where they stood and made them decide they weren't going to contradict Elrond after all.

"Do you have a better idea then?" Elrond asked, dropping a doubtful ´dark elf´ at the end of his question, though it hung in the air.

I licked my lips nervously "Yes. Let me go after the pack"

Elrond blinked "You? Alone? Of course-"

I shrugged "Of course"

'Oh. I should have guessed _that_' "I think he's right, really" Gildor moved to stand beside me "If you say I am good, he is better"

'I suppose this is not the time to act the lover and demand that you take me with you?' he added wryly. I glanced at him but could make no reply.

"I have proof neither of that nor of his trustworthiness. I won't send someone on his own, let alone someone I do not know" Elrond said bluntly.

"_I _know him, Elrond, and I tell you if you want information, let Raven go. If you want wolf-skins, I don't think either Celebdur or me could still overtake the pack"

"Faranaur killed it at dawn, near the Rim" Elrond said shortly "I know how fast Faire can go"

Gildor closed his eyes for a moment, obviously weighing if it worth an argument with Elrond so I could satisfy my curiosity. I shot a look at him 'I won't bring back wolf-skins either, and you know that'

'How badly do you want this, demon-hound?'

'Bad enough'

Gildor stared at me hard 'You are here to say what the Ashi´kha are and what they want. So far you never had the courage to do so, neither has there been an appropriate time. What if it comes to that now? You know you must go all the way then'

I dropped my gaze for a moment 'Yes'

"Raven is faster" Gildor said to Elrond.

"He is on foot" Elrond frowned, looking from Gildor to me "What is it you two are not telling me?...What do you know of these creatures, Raven?" he demanded when neither of us answered "They are fast, vicious and unpredictable. One alone cannot cope with a whole pack. Should you find them, you are in trouble. Big trouble"

'He's right, you know?'

'I have no intention taking on a whole pack. One wolf could tell me what he wants to know'

"My people live in wolf territory" I said carefully "We have arranged ourselves with the wild ones. And we know how to deal with the changed ones. There are some we can take on, and some that are too strong"

"This one there" Elrond gestured vaguely "surprised Faranaur. In familiar territory. He says he had not been followed, it simply burst out of the undergrowth and went for him. He had been _scouting_, and did not sense it. It must have been…covered. You will be far from lands known to you"

I shrugged uncomfortably, not wanting to _look up_ at the elf lord. "So are they. That was a forest wolf Faranaur killed. Not one of the plains or the mountains. And the changed ones can do that. I mean, the…spirits can blank themselves and the wolves out of your mind. You have to look for them by…uhm…without shields" I certainly could not tell him what a _mak´a´ara_ was. It had taken a first-hand-experience to show that to Gildor. Neither did it seem favourable to tell Elrond I could mind-kill.

"Without shields? That would be madness if you know what spirit inhabits them"

"Not if you layer the shields. So you can always close them out again"

"You said _without shields_"

I winced "I do not speak your language well enough. Also, mypeople are _dark elves_. Our…shields work differently. Very much so. Ask Gildor"

Elrond sighed "This is neither the time nor the place to discuss differences of kind, I suppose. Your people, I take it, have a way of…repelling…these spirits, then?"

I nodded mutely.

"When can you leave?"

"Immediately"

"Very well"

Gildor caught my glance and grimaced at Elrond´s retreating back "This is on my head, Raven. I hope you are sure of yourself this time"

I turned to look at him "Yes. Thank you"

"All this for the hope to save one of the wolves? You really risk your ass"

I shrugged.

"He'll want to know how you do that"

I gave an uncommitted rumble "Faranaur said there was another. Two wolves, but he only saw it turn tail, it never joined the fight"

"What if you can't drive it out?"

"I can"

"What if-"

"Then I'll kill the wolf, as you told Elrond"

A short time later Gildor accompanied me to the final bridge that led out of the valley proper. After that, the forest began, climbing steeply up to the Rim. I was impatient to get started and to leave the valley quickly. The sooner I got out the sooner I could change.

Gildor would take my weapons back with him, and I would hide my clothes up in some tree to retrieve before I returned. Gildor knew better than I where the sentinels were stationed, but the final distance to the Rim I would have to be extra careful to avoid being spotted.

Gildor was irritated. I knew the whole disguise-action got on his nerves as much as on mine but it would not do to rouse any more suspicion yet. It was bad enough I was going after the wolf. The werewolf, to be precise. No one in Imladris was likely to forget that fact. For a while, he had thought it was a reasonable thing if I just came straight out with the truth, changed right in the Great Hall. Then they would see I was neither werewolf nor demon, but simply Ashi´kha. But then – I could be both to them, werewolf _and_ demon. The elves´ reactions today had given us quite an idea what to expect. Maybe, maybe not. When I returned, we would have to confront Elrond with the truth.

"So…what about that…that thing?" Gildor asked when we reached the end of the bridge "You never said you had firsthand experience with these beasts as well. Orcs, I know"

I smiled wryly "Remember what I said, we _think_ they are essentially elven fёar. And these _are _too strong to be destroyed, enslaved or not"

I left out the unpleasant fact that some of these spirits, when confronted with being driven from their guest creature or being destroyed even _chose_ the latter. Though Nightchaser didn't think any fёar, Elven or not, could be destroyed by any force in Middle Earth and would ultimately return to – _some place_. Wherever that was.

"I know you can do weird things, demon-hound, but these are not orcs you can mind-kill, these are more"

"Gildor. I know what I´m going to do. Nightchaser has taught me. And he taught me well. I've done it before. I won't be able to _kill _it, but it is the same…action. It can not get me – only wolf-teeth can"

"And those are formidable ones, you have seen that this morning" he scanned my face for a long moment. "You have a wolf's mind yourself…"

"You don't know half of what Nightchaser could do. I wish he were here to explain. I am both. All Ashi´kha are. Wolf and elf. You should know that by now. And I said before, that is what makes us…" There was no equivalent in Quenya for the Ashi´kha word "The things we can drive away or destroy can force only one mind. We have…two minds. It is no matter which part these spirits assail, the other always…switches aside"

Gildor hesitated "Another choice bit of information in the puzzle. And what if it is a very powerful spirit?"

I laughed. "Then I have a problem"

Gildor snarled.

"Try it. Try to trap my mind" I said abruptly. What was I doing here, talking and talking instead of showing him what I meant?

"See for yourself. I can explain nothing. You, I should guess are more powerful than such a spirit. And I don't care if you Calaquendi think that sacrilege" I added when Gildor took a breath to contradict.

"Only the nameless shadow and his minions trap minds"

I looked at him calmly "You did that before, you can do it again"

There was a lot, I saw, Gildor could have said to that. He visibly swallowed any contradiction and instead placed his hand on my chest, reaching for my mind.

'Don't reach' I ordered 'Trap'

Gildor shifted his approach. Tried to trap first me, then the wolf. It was easy to avoid him, despite his greater power. He broke the connection and looked at me with surprise. I squeezed his shoulders briefly and stepped back "See what I mean?"

"Yes. Kind of -"

"Fine" I turned to the now dark forest. "A day or two for the wolf if Faranaur got the distance right"

No one was watching us, no one was even near. I unbuckled my sword and knife and handed them to Gildor "You think Elrond will leave you in peace yet?"

"I don't know. I won't say anything while you're gone at any rate"

I nodded "Do not worry about me, alright"

Gildor's POV

I bit my lip and watched him disappear into the trees. Then I went back to the buildings slowly, wishing for the first time I could change as Raven did and run with him.

Two anxious days passed. I found no rest and collected every tiny duty just to keep my mind from worrying. On the afternoon of the third day I was in the meadow behind the stables, righting some posts of the fence around the pen where the mortal horses were usually kept. The small herd was frisking about so I did not immediately react to the thunder of hooves behind me. Then there was a small pause in the drumming, followed by a heavy thud. I whirled, and Faire braked sharply, tearing the ground as her hooves slipped on the damp grass.

Up. Up she ordered Come with me

I dropped the hammer I was holding and obeyed without thinking, immediately fearing something had happened to Raven.

He's fine Faire cleared the fence again, ploughed through the high brushes alongside the stables and emerged in the yard. She did not slow on the cobblestones, and puzzled elves leaped out of our way. I clung to her mane and flattened myself to her neck as she crossed the bridges and tore off the path into the trees, heaving herself up the steep side. Low branches swished past, and dry needles showered over us.

'What the hell are you doing!'

You must look

'Why did Raven not call me?'

Wolf. Can't

'Since when can't he call me when he is wolf?' I demanded, but Faire made no answer. She reached a makeshift path going half uphill half along the mountain side. She gathered more speed for a moment until veering off into the thickets again and propelling herself uphill with powerful thrusts of her hind-legs.

Head down Faire ordered. I quickly ducked to the side of her neck as far as I could without slipping off and pressed my face into her mane. Branches whipped over me. Faire forged a path through dense forest, going uphill in a straight line. When I felt her slow after a while and cast about, I straightened, quickly taking in the area. Pine forest, the ground covered with brambles and low bushes. We were near the Rim already, an Faire was blowing with exhaustion. The black frantically scurried in one particularly thick patch of greenery, sniffing and scratching madly. I slipped off Faire´s back and forged towards him through the clinging brambles before Faire had fully halted. The black jerked his head up and fanned out his ruff, baring his teeth with a growl. It was an imposing gesture, one I always respected because it was purely wolf. The black slicked his fur down abruptly, and Raven, or rather the wolf, mind-spoke me.

'This. What is this?' The black returned to his scrabbling in the brambles. Satisfied I would not be attacked anymore I crouched down and pushed the excited wolf back to have a better look.

There was a milky black lump, half hidden still in the undergrowth. 'Not touch' Raven snapped. The wolf pawed at it, and I saw that it was a stone "Why not? You do"

The wolf's skittyness was contagious.

'Not feel. Try. Spell. You should'

He wants you to try a dark-spell, to see what this holds before you touch. He can't sense what you can Faire translated the wolf's near incoherent sending.

I stared at her for a moment, taken aback by the sudden clearness of her mind-speech. I had little time to wonder about that. It was ages since I had done a proper dark-spell. It was almost impossible to concentrate on the correct words. I had to repeat them twice before I had them right. I knew the spell was set, but it had no effect on whatever that object there was. The wolf had touched and stirred it without anything blowing up. I reached out and picked the stone up. It was cold and heavy, and its surface had been smoothed a bit. Now that I held it the spell seemed to gain some power. The stone emanated a feeling of hollowness, and briefly a shimmer gathered around it before fading as fast as it had been visible. I almost dropped the stone. I had forgotten the scope of the words I had used – the speaker felt whatever powers that thing he had bespoken held. And those were dark.

The spell faded. I tightened my hold on the stone and looked at the wolf. Most of his usually clean fur was dishevelled and littered with sticks and dry needles. "What happened?" I demanded of Faire and wolf alike, getting up. The black leaped aside but did not answer.

Trouble Faire had walked a few yards away, and was up to her knees in bushes. Her ears were flat to her skull Look at this. Guard

I pushed through the bushes, registering what Faire meant, but still froze in shock when I almost stepped on the body of a dead guard. The bushes were torn here, showing signs of a fight. A few feet away lay the carcass of a large greyish-brown wolf. There were odd things wrong with it – I knew what it meant before my mind acknowledged the fact. Another werewolf. Within the boundaries of Rivendell.

The black appeared at my side, a little calmer than before. I shoved the stone into my pocket and knelt, digging my hands into the wolf's ruff. I wanted to demand to know what had happened, but Raven had already lowered his shields, offering me an unguarded connection to share his memory.

Faire carried me downhill again, going as fast as she could without losing me on the steep downwards climb. The black seemed to fly downhill. He overtook us and ran ahead, scattering leaves in his speed. Faire slowed and swerved slightly towards a non-descript tree where Raven changed and retrieved his bundled up clothing with a sheepish grin. Once more, heads turned as Faire cantered across the yard and halted right in front of the main doors. I dismounted, and caught Raven as he slipped off her back and almost stumbled. He had changed in a hurry, and after a longer time as wolf that shift in perception was not pleasant. I wished I could give him a break, but the stones and all that had happened called for action. In our rooms, I scooped up my sword, knife and bow and hastily strapped them on. Raven fidgeted impatiently, but once he had dismissed the wolf, he had calmed down much quicker than I had feared he would. The stone was cold and heavy in my pocket, and I felt a sour weight in my guts. The black had killed a werewolf right under Elrond's nose. And that same werewolf had mauled a guard within Vilya´s protection. An orc had been with it, obviously laying traps, one of which Raven had sprung. The sling wire had cut through the wolf's ruff and left red marks on Raven's neck, but the black had managed to free himself and followed the fleeing orc back over the Rim. He had killed the creature there and returned to the dead guard. Raven suspected the stones worked as shields, blocked scrying, which was probably how werewolf and stone had come unmarked into the valley in the first place. The way the first wolves had attacked Faranaur without him sensing them. We would have to comb the valley for more of these, but first, Elrond had to be informed.

"What did you do when…during fёa-raika?" I said abruptly as we hastened up the stairs "You…the wolf could have slipped me. You didn't, and instead tried to blast us both into bits"

Raven stopped halfway up a long winding stair, turning to look at me a step below and therefore on eyelevel with me.

"I think, I can actually give you an answer to that now" he said slowly "And that is simple: the wolf wants to survive. Always…He sensed what you were doing was his chance to survive – it was instinct that kept him back. He did not slip you because you were saving us. I…wanted to die, and it was only my own decision fighting you. That is why you could trap me – us. The wolf refused to help me out"

"Still you had the power for that all-out strike"

Raven shrugged slightly "Of course. It was the only way out to try at that moment. Why are you asking this?" he added curiously "You are not afraid of me suddenly, are you?"

"No" I said shortly "Come on, we're in a hurry"

"You wait" Raven held me back "This can't be just about a few stupid werewolves"

I stared at him for a moment "No. This is about _you_. And now come" I went up the stairs.

"_Khai_´_toh_" Raven had not moved "You know what that means?"

I turned slowly at the Ashi´kha title. A word I knew, but which Raven had never used when we had practiced Ashi´kha language "Elda"

Raven shook his head slightly "That is the Common Code" He climbed the stairs to stand beside me again, seeking for words "Power. Incomprehensible. Terrible. _Blinding_ _bright_. It is a word from the Starlit Dark. And that is what it means"

"And what do want to tell me with that?"

"That I can't believe you would be frightened of anything I could ever do?" Raven suggested mildly "Repelled, yes. But not frightened"

"I am _not_ repelled" I snapped angrily "I would not be your lover otherwise, don't you think? Can't you understand, Raven?"

"No" Raven returned quietly, not responding to my anger "I am yours. I will be as long as you want me around"

I sighed and took Raven's hands after a moment "I love you dark elf. And I will be yours as long as you will cope with an unfurred wolf. But you make my skin crawl nevertheless. And I just wonder" I added "if you people know what you _could_ do"

"We know" Raven said softly "And we know even better what we _can_´t do. All we want is to be left alone with the wolves. Just that"

Raven's POV

Elrond popped out of his study as we reached the landing.

"What is this commotion? Faire-"

"Palarran met another werewolf near the Rim and did not survive the encounter. Raven killed the wolf and the Orc that supposedly brought him, and we found this near" Gildor dropped the stone into Elrond's hands "Looks bad, feels bad, and works very well blanking things from scrying"

Elrond stared at him for a moment as if he thought Gildor had gone quite mad. "This reacts to the dark-spell only if you touch it at the same time, and its power fades quickly" Gildor went on "You had better rout out all the guards we have and anyone else who's suitable, give them dogs, tell them to sniff for orc-scent and watch out for slings, and search the valley. Especially the regions near the Rim we usually don't scour right through. Raven and I will go as well, north-western side, I think. And maybe Glorfindel can say more about these when he returns, I reached my limit with the spell"

Elrond shot a dark look at me as I kept in the background, then shifted his gaze back to Gildor "You're not joking"

Gildor shook his head once.

"You go ahead, fetch who you can" Elrond snapped the door shut and joined us on the return way down the stairs. In the hall, he went off to the side.

"Get Faire saddled and wait for me by the stables. I'm going to get everyone down here"

I obeyed without hesitation. Faire was in the yard still, pricking her ears expectantly when I came out "Gildor wants you saddled" I told her, focusing on her to ignore the curious glances.

Good She followed me into the stables. I collected her gear and gave her back a quick brush before saddling her. When I held up the halter for her to slip her head inside a bell started to clang.

Where's your sword?

I stared at her perplexed for a moment, realizing the blade had been the last thing I had thought about "I'm going as wolf" I said firmly "It's bound to come out anyway now"

I cinched the last straps tight and quickly divested myself of my clothing, calling the change before I could worry about the consequences.

Saves Gildor the trouble of taking a dog Faire observed dryly, giving herself a shake to settle everything in place. The bell had raised a veritable commotion outside. A short time later Gildor hurried into the stable, followed by several others who went straight for their horses.

"Raven?" he asked Faire as he mounted and she immediately turned out of the stables.

'I am here' I uncurled and leaped down from the hay where I had been lying. Gildor gave me a long hard stare, then nodded "Right. You see you don't get run over by the horses, wolf"

An admirably ordered group of guards, scouts, dogs and various armoured elves had by now gathered in the yard. Gildor exchanged several clipped sentences with whom I took for the respective leaders, and issued quick instructions who was to go where. The meaning of the rapid Sindarin orders escaped me, all the more with the wolf overlaying any not-immediate thinking. Most of the dogs were on leashes, but quite a number of hounds was loose and not happy at a wolf in their midst. They had picked on me much quicker than any elf would suspect the black. I was not prepared for any insolence from a _dog _right now. Gildor finished his organisation just in time to see one of the hunting dogs clash with me in a growling ball of fur and teeth.

He swore and drove Faire between us. A green-clad hunter came running and jammed the blunt end of his spear between us, pulling his dog back by the collar. Faire dug her teeth into my ruff and jerked me back. I was forced to loosen my hold on the hound's neck with a yelp and retreated to Faire´s side. I returned the hunter's puzzled stare defiantly and flared my ruff briefly. Before the elf could wonder at this most wolvish dog the various smaller groups set off, both on foot and on horseback.

"Curse you, demon beast" Gildor muttered "Come on, we are taking the northern edge, that is rocky area"

It was a considerable distance to cross. Faire kept to the forest as much as she could, but towards the narrowing end of the valley the paths were the only way to get forward. We passed a few scouts and their dogs before reaching the area Gildor had assigned to us. I did not wait for him and set off to scour the land, nose to the ground.

'We do the climbing, and you have a look at the parts you can reach' Gildor told Faire, snapping the reins off her halter so she would not snug on them. Then he followed me and turned his attention to the strip of land parallel to my line of progress. We scrambled among boulders and between brambles for several hours, working our way up from the path and towards the Rim. The valley was near self-defensive here. The last few yards until the sharp edge of the Rim consisted of vertical cliffs, brittle sandstone, which was impossible to climb. A thin, in winter and after long rains mostly impassable trail ran along the cliff's foot before joining the broader path the riding guards usually took. Our directions of searching met on the path at the foot of the cliff without incident. Deep dusk had fallen by then. Faire had gone further downwards towards the small stream falling from the cliff and running towards the Bruinen proper. She had found nothing yet either it seemed, because she had remained silent up to now. She would keep to less hazardous areas, and we turned towards the western side of this end-part of the valley. I stopped on a small ridge and lifted my muzzle, sniffing into the breeze. Orcs were suicidal in their missions, and this was the least guarded place of the Imladris border. If they wanted to sneak in, they would try here first place of all. Off the path, the forest was dense and the ground treacherous. Loose rocks and gravel were overgrown by thick grass and provided wonderful traps. Tail-end guard-duty numbered among the least favoured things in Imladris, Gildor had said - groups of two or three guards were set up here for three days before they were relieved. Tonight would have been a change of shift, but no one had intercepted us yet. To me the signals were clear and Gildor went forward apprehensively. After finding Palarran this afternoon we knew what was coming.

'Down there' I announced quietly. A steep grassy bank led to rift which served as channel after heavy rains. The floor was gravelly as a river bed, and the rocky sides mossy. We slipped and slid downwards the last few feet in a small avalanche of loose stones. The air was damp and cold here, and a strong smell of decaying leaves and less pleasant things hung in the channel. The wolf remained unimpressed and I went along the dim ravine.

'Two days' I announced, inspecting the dead body. Gildor stared at me, and I could sense him fighting down irrational disgust. I gave him a sharp, dark stare 'I have eaten things that smelled worse' I announced coldly, then lowered my nose to search the ground once more.

Gildor tamped down on the anger my remark stung up and knelt beside the corpse, keeping any kind of emotion under a tight shield "Why did Elrond not sense it? Vilya is supposed to guard this land. With her, he controls even the _river_. And here the rats have burrowed and killed right under our nose-"

'If noses you had' I inspected the nooks in the walls 'These stones…blend into what I can feel about this…valley. But they smell. I cannot reach this' I added. Wedged into an overgrown cranny was a second black stone. Gildor knelt beside me and pulled it out.

"Seems non-descript and dead"

When he cast the dark-spell over it, nothing happened.

'What are we going to do about him?' I glanced at the corpse.

Gildor took a deep breath "Leave him. We're not finished"

We left the ravine at its cliff-ward end. The rocks towered high and seemingly impassable above us. Gildor made for a lump at the foot of the cliff, and gave a satisfied laugh when he reached it. I came up beside him and we exchanged a grim look.

"These rats can sneak, but not climb" Gildor glanced up the steep cliff, and reached out to search the dead orc´s packs. These proved empty. We scrambled further west. By the time we reached the place where the land rose again towards the Rim night had fallen. Faire met us there, having found only traces of trampled grass and broken twigs, but nothing else. She reported the vague scent of a scout, though.

'There was the scent of another scout up there' I said to her carefully 'Is that possible?'

Faire flicked her ears forward which she had gradually flattened when hearing our news The one we scented will have reached the houses then she stated, satisfied That explains it

I had not been sure what I smelled so I had said nothing. So there must have been two guards, and one escaped.

"Not three, then?" Gildor asked. The hope that one at least had escaped seemed to mollify him for my previous silence.

'Not three' I confirmed.

The Rim?

"Yes. Eastward. The rest should be covered by Celebdur´s group. But we have at least one orc to account for still, so we'll go to the Nook first"

Gildor's POV

In the furthest western corner we found orc tracks, and the black picked up a scent. 'I meet you at the oak' he announced, and with a soft growl set off along the barely visible path, which vanished on the rocks. I let him go. If anyone was capable of tracking that orc yet, it was the black. He was not much of a climber, but the rocks were not sheer here, and he scrambled upwards determinedly. The wolf vanished from sight as he wound a way up the steep ridge.

It took Faire and me until dawn to reach the old, split oak that marked the edge of one scout-territory from the next. We had found nothing whatsoever, not even more traces. Exhausted, I flopped down at the tree's foot and stared at the pinkish-grey sky. Faire nibbled at the grass without much enthusiasm. Twigs and burrs had caught in her mane and tail, promising hard work for grooming. Silently, the black appeared beside us out of the shadows, startling us both.

"Since when are _you_ here?" I snapped, nettled.

'Not long' the wolf sniffed around the oak and came over to me, turning round and round to flop down gracelessly beside me 'I tracked him westward. He had holed up in ruins, there. With stone. I left them both'

I nodded, satisfied, knowing the unspoken rest. For a while, we were silent, following our own thoughts. I could not decide what I was more worried about. The fact that Imladris was not as safe as we had always thought, that its inhabitants´ vigilance had lagged dangerously, or what I was going to do about the changewolf and Raven's task of looking for allies. The two hung together, and not for the better.

Palarran and Alcarion. I stuck my knuckles into my eyes. I had not known them except for names and faces, but that made not so much difference. Any warrior that had died under my command both in Gondolin and the Alliance I had known as face and name. _Damn_ _it_.

The black shifted slightly and rested his head in my lap. I stared down at the wolf's broad skull. Sometimes it was hard to imagine that this really was Raven. Wolf and elf were so much alike sometimes, but also completely different. The wolf was purely wolf sometimes as well. As he had been the past hours. There was still an irrational anger in me when I thought how he had reacted in that ravine. Sometimes, he frightened me. And sometimes, he made me want to smack him. The sight of his eyes, glowing eerily in the dimness, had stayed with me. I could not reconcile the two like that, wolf and Raven. I closed my eyes wearily, wondering if I should nap here before riding down. I stroked the short, soft fur on the black's head, scratching his ears. It was no use trying to understand. I could only take it for granted.

The stones. The werewolves. It came back to that.

"How did it go? Your original werewolf mission?"

The black glanced at me without raising his head 'I found the wolf. The spirit is…gone. I hunted a few squirrels and left the wolf with them. His old pack is still near, they will return when he calls them. The pack Elrond wanted, they were gone. East. Straight. What is east?"

"The mountains" I said "Khazad dum!"

'Bless you' Raven returned sardonically. The wolf cocked his head slightly, questioningly.

"The mines" I explained "The mines of Khazad dum. Did they go into the mines?"

'I- I don't know. Not by choice, wolves wouldn't. But the pack in the plains said they crossed and vanished. So maybe – yes. Maybe they did go there. I lost their tracks near…I don't know names. There were ruins, and a stream. High cliffs'

"You were as far as the gate-stream! In two day's time?"

The wolf sat up slowly, stretching a little "I do not know gate stream. The mountains, yes. I was there'

I looked at him thoughtfully "And when you came back you ran into another werewolf? You know, what you gave me was rather jumbled, yesterday"

The black shook his head so that his ears flapped 'When I crossed Rim, there was a curious spoor, like orc. I followed, found dead guard, and sniffed right into sling. There was an orc alright, I had smelled. He hacked with…sword, and when I jerked back, he hit wire and cut. That wolf burst out of thicket – I had no time. So I killed it. The orc had run then. I followed back into plain, and killed it there'

Raven's exhaustion showed in the wolf's mind-speech and it was hard to follow. I ran my hands hard over my forehead, hoping to drive tiredness away.

"Lets go back down and report' I said, getting up and stretching "And think of a nice way to broach the Ashi´kha. Faire?"

She gave a huge yawn, showing enormous horse teeth Get up

The wolf trotted beside us as she climbed down towards the houses. A small trickle of scouts came back, too, some looking only tired, others quite grim. At least no one had found any more dead, and those not yet back were accounted for. The pinkish dawn had faded into a damp grey morning before we entered the stables, which were empty except for Asfaloth and another early return. When I finished unsaddling Faire and turned to brushing her Raven reappeared. He had called the change and retrieved his clothing from the top of the hay bales. He wordlessly refilled her manger with hay and then busied himself with fetching hot water and mixing it with mash. I held the door to Faire´s stall open for her and rubbed her head in farewell before leaving her to her meal.

"Bathhouses?"

Raven nodded.

Chapter Notes:

I _know _it is highly unlikely that a werewolf would actually enter the area of Vilya´s power, or at least I assume so – but then… anyway.

Faranaur: Sindarin ´day- hunter´

Celebdur: Sindarin ´dark silver´

Palarran: (Q) far-traveller

Alcarion: (Q), light-

14


	47. Chapter 47 Wolf and Raven

'**Wolf and Raven'**

Imladris, early summer TA 3018

Gildor's POV

The bathhouses were almost empty yet but we still chose a tub in the hindmost corner.

"Did Elrond badger you already while I was gone?" Raven asked after a while as we took it in turns to wash and comb out the other's hair. We were up to our necks in hot water so the greatest part of Raven's _akhai_ was hidden and the few others had no reason to covertly stare. I made a noncommittal sound, shrugging "Business as usual"

"Ah" he said dryly "That tells me everything"

"Come on" he probed when I remained silent "You are cautious around him as well, don't think I haven't noticed"

I craned my head to look round at him darkly, then sniffed and turned away, splashing water into my face "Other than telling me I'm a stranger here rather than a resident anymore we didn't say much to each other"

"He's telling you _that_?" Raven asked incredulously "Who else is casting an occasional look over the rim here? And I mean that literally. Look what it got them into"

"I _haven't _been here for a long time"

"So what?" Raven turned me around forcefully "Does it bother _you_? Is that you talking? If so, tell me, because that is what _I _can change. If you want to stay here longer, so will I. But if it is not, for heaven's sake forget it"

"Easy said" I snarled softly "You have your two sides to make believe. I can't change my skin that easily. And I mean _that _literally"

Raven dropped his gaze "Yes, well" he said finally "I wondered when that would become a problem. It does not seem so much of trouble when we are alone in the wild"

It wasn't. We both had our place in our small two-member pack in the wild. But here in Imladris where everyone seemed to have an opinion what the other should or shouldn't do, it was not Raven getting into conflict with himself this time, oddly enough, it was me.

"I've thought about these stones" Raven changed the topic after an uncomfortable silence "I think whatever power they held, it…was fading when taken from the Orcs. I suppose the stones…or the magic they carried, rather, were keyed to the Orcs' life-force. Or whatever bearer. That would fade then, when the keeper died, or lost the object. But the stones we found – at least the one left with Alcarion was there for a purpose. There must have been a way to key the stone to what it was supposed to blank. Maybe. But I don't know how exactly they interact with how that ring of Elrond's works, or if at all. You said neither of those stones reacted to your dark-spell. Maybe they just blanked what _happened _from Elrond's perception. Any powerful permanent spell would have been dangerous, would it not? We could have taken and unravelled it, if the spell had been independent of the bearers it was supposed to shield. The stones, though…it is the rock you can find in…what you call the east. It lies around there in places, it is nothing special, I think"

I thought with closed eyes for a while, grateful to exchange thoughts of personal differences with Elrond with more immediate problems. I had become quite accustomed to the way the Ashi'kha handled magic. Or the places they went on their hunts. How Raven knew these stones still lay on the plains of the dark land – never mind now. But his speculations about these stones seemed far too accurate. No evil had ever come of his use of earth power, but I did not wish to imagine Elrond's reaction if Raven managed to re-call that kind of…magic. Elrond might be able to cure what the shadow did, but none here would dare to, as Raven put it, _unravel_ its tools or designs.

"Can you…perform such a spell?"

"No" Raven replied with a slight smile. "Don't worry. You know I don't even have a spell to detect it. But you will remember what happens when I shield completely – it is similar"

"Yes…"

"I found them only by smell. And by then it was almost too late" Raven hesitated. "You must _always_ take dogs with you. Wolves would be better as they don't bark when they find something, but-" he shrugged eloquently, and I had to smile weakly "No chance yet"

Raven nodded, once "I know no other way to find them if sight and scrying fail"

Dark stones…dark land…I tried to think straight. Elrond still thought Raven was Avarin …Darkstone! I groaned. Oh flames of Mordor, I should have thought. I squeezed my eyes shut, wondering when today my brain had walked out on me.

"Gildor?"

Raven's voice shook me out of my thoughts. I swore, causing him to raise his eyebrows "I'll have to remember _that_ one" Raven said with admiration, smiling wryly "What happened?"

"I just remembered. Avari. And dark stones. I – there was an Avarin leader with the wild elves I stayed with for a while. He had been a slave in Angband; he managed to escape when the orcs moved a group of them to another mine. They killed some of the orcs and disguised themselves. He said he stole a stone from one that was milky black and had been polished to a shine. The orc had kept it in a special leather bag, and he could read some of the runes stitched on the bag. He learned to use the stone enough to blank himself from the searchers and escaped. The stone's power faded slowly as he travelled farther from the land. He called himself Darkstone afterwards. Damn, I wish he were here"

Raven was silent for a while. He looked ready to fall asleep on me "We could not use the stones anyway. Whatever their spell is, they are keyed to their bearers. And I can't imagine Elrond allowing the use of such stones even if we knew what to do" he said finally.

"Yes. And no, he would not allow. But I know enough who would, and happily turn the weapons of evil against itself. But hell, I should have _remembered_ he said he used the stone as disguise the moment you said those orcs were blanked from your senses"

"Fat lot of good it would have done. We would have known what blanked them, but not how to counter it"

I stared at the coiling steam "But to fool Vilya-. They must have powerful spells in the Black Land by now -"

Raven shook his head "I don't know enough of the rings. I just guess it does not need to be powerful. Just – similar. The power behind the stones must be so like to Vilya's that it does not stick out in the power flows around Imladris. They are very strong, and might overrule the aberration such a stone causes. Maybe Elrond could change the way the ring – no, the way he perceives the valley through the ring?-"

"I don't know" I said "It is fruitless to discuss the rings without Elrond"

I reached for towels and handed Raven one, wondering when there would be a shortage of these when half the valley's inhabitants wanted a bath tonight.

Raven snorted softly. "It might turn out just as fruitless to do it with him"

I shrugged "He should, however, consider Ashi'kha noses on his borders, should these stones become used on a grand scale. I think there are too few left who could perform this spell of detection. And they sneaked those stones in right under our _nose_"

"I should go and talk to him again, I suppose" Raven sighed.

"_We_ should" I agreed glumly "But first we eat"

Raven smiled wearily "Spoken like a true wolf"

The greyishness of the morning had deepened into a drizzle as we left the bathhouse and made for the kitchen. Some scouts had also found their way there by now, and there were barks in the yard. The windows of Elrond's room and study were dark yet, so I knew he must be out scouting still. On his return, the other scouts would report, and I intended to catch Elrond alone for our business. Time for a meal then.

"By the way" I asked as we carried platters with cold meat and cheese to our rooms "what was that with the hound yesterday? I have never seen you so…call it greedy for attack. Whatever. You almost killed the best blood hound in Imladris"

Raven snorted as he put the platter down on the floor and flopped onto his bed. "Stupid thing. He _challenged _me"

"You need not have accepted" I said mildly. "You ignored much graver insults from dogs before, as I remember"

Raven shrugged carelessly "Some rub-off from the earlier kill, maybe" He popped a piece of cheese into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully "I got him, though. The orc, I mean"

"Why did that orc try and catch a wolf at all? Think about that before you offer spying behind enemy lines"

Raven shrugged unconcernedly, waving the objection away with a piece of cold meat "There is no love lost between us. Generally they leave us be, which you should never take for granted. If they need a moving target, a wolf will do as well as any of their own kind"

Despite his nervousness in the prospect of facing Elrond soon Raven managed a nap. I woke him in the late afternoon "Lets get it over with"

"Right" he stretched and pushed the blankets away, calling the change without further ado. I raised my eyebrows. The black shook himself and leaped off the bed 'You are right, lets get it over with'

There was light in Elrond's study, so I could be sure that he was back by now as well. Most of the scout-leaders would also have reported to him. The wolf's claws clicked softly on the tiles as we walked through the corridors and halls. I took a deep breath and knocked briskly.

"It's Raven and me, we want to report"

"Come in, the door's open" Elrond's voice sounded muffled. He had just pulled a stained, rain-damp tunic over his head and tossed it over a chair as we entered, retrieving a dry shirt from a chest without turning. Obviously, he had only shortly returned from his circuit of the valley, checking on the findings of the groups. "Thought you'd been down in the Hall with the rest of the scouts"

"Well yea. We were back early and had something to eat first" I dropped down on a low couch, and the black sat down at my feet, curling his tail over his paws uncertainly "I suppose we've got things for your ears only. Or better eyes"

Elrond turned with a frown, shrugging into his shirt "Why are you beat-" he stopped, staring from me to the black, who shifted uncomfortably and flattened his ears slightly. There was a long silence, broken only by an occasional bay from the yard below.

"Well, let me introduce you to the furred side of Raven" I said calmly "His people call themselves Ashi'kha, which means "turns furred", and he is a black wolf when he wants to. You have seen him yesterday already but probably not realized it was him"

Elrond took a breath as if to say something, but then didn't. If he had thought I had been kidding yesterday, he now definitely considered me quite mad.

"And before you question my sanity, you can talk to him as you can to me, only if you want his answer directly you must use mind-speech"

Elrond continued to stare at me for a moment longer "Your report then" he said "First of all"

"Right" I launched into brief recapitulation of our findings, then added our speculations about the stones. Elrond listened without interrupting me once.

"Rawegil arrived here shortly after everyone had set out" he confirmed "He told us how they had been surprised by orcs, and that Alcarion had been killed. He himself had tried to track the fleeing orc, but it left the valley and disappeared seemingly into nothingness. He came back here to call for help, and found we had already drummed up some action" He paused "That – wolf – Raven- you said found the orc. How, if even Rawegil could not?"

"Scent" I said promptly "The stones blank them from our scrying, and they are wood-crafty orcs, these ones, as far as orcs go. But they cannot hide their smell"

Elrond ran his hands through his hair "Adding everything up your report means that three of my people are dead, three I have known very well. Rivendell is not a secret sanctuary, but its defence has been breached once now, and the surviving Orcs will not forget it, or keep the tidings to themselves. They have sneaked in under cover, at the least guarded and most difficult places, but they _have _sneaked in. And I have not sensed it. There are always shifts in the feeling Vilya provides me with of the valley, and the subtle changes vary with season and weather. Whatever I have sensed, it has not been enough to alarm me. I have not been able to determine its true nature. Things of darkness are coming too close to the borders to be tolerated any longer. We have scouts, rangers watch in the wild lands beyond, and yet these – wolves – have attacked an elf not a day's walk from the end of Vilya's influence"

And now I brought this creature here as others would calmly present their oldest friend. Even more, I had made it tactfully clear that Raven knew about the rings of power, and that was absolutely not a thought Elrond relished. Raven was the last person Elrond would trust. There were dark elves and dark elves. There were thorns between the exiles and the Silvan Elves even. Allies were few, and none to be trusted outright. I knew he was thinking this. Elrond visibly brought his mind back to the problem with the stones "Powerful magics are not given to simple Orc soldiers. Yes, it has been a test"

"And only Raven's last minute warning has kept Imladris from a severe invasion"

Elrond nodded once "Then it comes down to this - why did Raven feel it? Why did not Vilya sense it? And if Raven could find the stones, why then did he come so late?"

'I cannot fly' the black snapped silently 'I sensed it because it was earth magic. And Vilya did not because the same power that is hers was made to shield the device'

'We cannot prove that, Raven'

'No It has no smell, but to me, it feels the same. And it is the only explanation we can offer'

Elrond observed our silent exchange suspiciously. To most others it would have been invisible, but he obviously knew when someone was mind-speaking. Was he using Vilya's power? I couldn't say. He always made me distrustful with that. I never knew when he saw things I did not want him to see.

Elrond's POV

There was something I could not pick out about Raven even subtly using Vilya's power. It was like peering into a fog and trying to make out the forms moving in it.Something slipped me when I tried to grasp the dark elf's – or the wolf's - presence. I was not above trying some _looking_, but Raven was shielded very well, and permanently. Also, Gildor shielded him. I caught his half amused half sardonic glance as I registered the fact with surprise. That Gildor could do so was quite a surprise in itself. If I wanted to do that, the persons concerned had to be very close to me, and also physically close. So far, Gildor had not touched the wolf once.

I took a breath. It was easy these days to suspect others, easier to place the blame. But to hell with wise words "I wish to speak to _him_, now, _in_ _words_, and not to…to a beast of shadow"

The wolf got up slowly, and for a moment, we simply looked at each other, unblinking. He was a tall beast, but I guessed there was less substance to him than the thick, shiny black fur made believe. Even without being an expert on wolf behaviour I saw that there was a touch of defiance in the wolf's stance, his upright bearing and the slightly raised tail, that did not fit with his slicked down ruff and flattened ears.

Vilya's power could be put to many uses, and one decidedly useful thing was, if I wished to speak mind to mind, I needed not unshield to the other.

'_This_ is me' a strange mind-voice told me abruptly. Raven's, I realized, it must be Raven's. 'Which form I use makes no difference. If you will speak _now_, you must speak to the beast'

The sending was much clearer and pointed than I would have expected. It was more images and emotions than words, and anger at my words, which indirectly judged Gildor through his relationship to Raven, tinged the sending. I could feel that, and also that Raven had difficulty mind-speaking like this. I could not say what clue the wolf gave to Gildor, but I felt him withdrawing the protective shielding he had linked with Raven. I cautiously lowered my shields enough to probe for Raven's mind. The wolf's ears flattened further to his skull when he sensed it.

'Look' There was an abrupt shift in our connection. Raven dropped his shields completely and without warning. Only the fact that I was still shielded through the ring's power kept me from cutting off the connection. Gildor had said that the dark elves' mind-speech was a much more direct matter than that of the Eldar, but he had not gone into detail about how much more direct. This connection was intimate enough that I would have classified as what lovers shared. And most of Gildor's communication with Raven and all of his talk with the…wolf…took place on this level. I suppressed a shiver.

For a moment I thought this was Raven's way of challenging me. Then I realized he had no choice but to drop _all _shields as long as I did not offer him a connection and held it. The wolf faced me in the real world, but wolf and elf were inseparable in the spirit world. Emotions and thought lines I would decide were elven mixed and exchanged with what were, to me, the simple thoughts and urges of a beast. Whatever Vilya hid of my own mind from the dark elf, Raven seemed to sense enough. He seemed as unconcerned by my unwilling sentiment as the wolf.

'Yes. See. These are my secrets. All that is relevant to know. I am the wolf. The wolf is me. So it is for all my people. Since the time of darkness, when only shadow was in Middle Earth, it has been this way. Maybe my people became so under the shadow, yes. Maybe we were made so by the Dark One. Maybe we are what the one you name Allfather wanted us to be. We do not know. To us, it is a gift. And I would not have it differently. But the shadow we have never served. The deep-night over the east is enemy to all free things. And we wish to stay what we are'

His attempt at worded mind-speech roughly followed the word-order he would use in his own language, I saw. I tried to assess this creature, sensed Raven observing my scrutiny. I saw the wolf shiver, and knew it cost him lot to bear it.

Hate. Hate that was closely linked to sorrow, and vengefulness. This was part of Raven, and I abandoned my probing with slight hesitation. I had no right to know more in this direction.

'You could take what you wish' Raven said quietly 'If there is shadow with me, it is but the darkness I carry with me myself'

'I would violate my own obligation' I returned after a moment 'I have sworn to heal, not to hurt'

Rave paused 'You protect your pack. If we fought as two males for a pack, you and I, it would be as equals'

That was a stumper. I stored the words away carefully, wondering if it was a simple realisation of the wolf, or a threat? And what did the wolf refer to when he said 'pack'? What did Raven refer to? From what I had seen of Raven I could not imagine he would start any kind of fight with me, but there was truth in that statement. Vilya would surely give me the victory over the dark elf, but should we 'fight', as Raven put it, it would not be without considerable damage to us both.

Raven was so strange as to be inaccessible, and easy to misjudge, for good or bad.

'Why are you here, Raven? Here in the valley? Only to be with Gildor when he is here? '

The wolf's ears twitched, rising slightly. Whatever it meant, I could not say. I sensed conflict, but the source Raven was hiding successfully.

'The shadow' he said after a moment 'is taking all our lands'

_The dark mountains. How much could these be taken by shadow any more?_

There was mocking amusement at that thought 'There has always been war. My people are not many – ten times and five ten, maybe, with old and young'

_Old and young? _I seized on the formulation. Were Raven's people mortal? Had their bond to the wolves cost them the life of the Firstborn? Was then blood the key?

I had not consciously hidden the sudden flashes of thought, and immediately realized that Raven was aware of them. Slowly, the wolf pricked his ears forward completely. He had avoided direct eye-contact with me after the initial stare, but now he met my gaze. There was a wash of emotion that was mainly sorrow, but also mixed with pride.

'No' Raven answered my unspoken question 'We are no more mortal than you. But the older ones collect injuries, and some can no longer hunt or fight. Many of us die, or are killed. The winters are long where wolf-clan lives' He had personal memories of such a winter, and did not keep them from me 'You think of blood – I cannot tell you how we came into being, what happened in the starlit dark. No one can, because the old songs have too many layers of meaning, and many have been lost'

The wolf took a deep breath 'In this form I _am _a wolf in mind and body, and blood. And as wolf, I can reproduce as wolf'

I caught the images coming with that before Raven actually spoke them. They added a restriction that told me the offspring of such a – I forced myself to call it union – would be pure wolves. Raven's sending was open. I realized Gildor would have followed our exchange. I looked at him in shock, but received the same calm stare back Gildor had given me when withdrawing his protection on Raven.

_He knows! He knows and is perfectly calm about it! _This was the first time in centuries, part of my mind told me sarcastically, that I was lost for words. I looked back at the wolf, who surveyed me with now calm grey eyes.

'Maybe because we are wolves so much, we can save ourselves beyond this age. My people can yet refill the places left by the dead. We still have cubs' Raven paused, and when I found no answer continued 'But this war that comes, it will sweep many things away. It will not notice sweeping us away. Maybe we would survive, if we fled, if we hid. We always did, and we survived. But the scale has become greater'

It was Raven, and only Raven who was now speaking to me.

'To be wolf, I said we feel is a gift. It is our nature. This is what I offer, Elrond of Rivendell. Our noses, ears and speed. That is why I am here. To represent my clan. My brother is dead. We were supposed to look for someone with power together. It was not my choice to do this alone. It was not the plan to hide what we are – but I am no envoy, and I did not know what to do, when to do it. What we can offer is a small thing, and one that will not be noticed in the final battle. It is all my people can do, and they sent my brother and me to find a time and a place to reveal this. In the name of Wolf Clan I have the authority to speak for all of us. If you will have the wolves, we will spy for your people, carry messages, fight with you'

The wolf made a slight backward movement, though he did not have the power to break the connection off without my consent. Panic, quickly controlled, flashed through him. I felt it, considered it before I released him from the mental hold.

Gildor raised one hand to the wolf's ruff unconsciously. I noticed the gesture, and what it implied, though probably neither of the two did. A restraint for the wolf as well as a gesture of protection, and it told me that Gildor considered my limit reached for the time being.

I took a long moment to seek for words. Gildor and the wolf exchanged something on a level too intimate that I could catch it.

"Now that you have spoken to the beast of shadow, do you still wish to speak to him in words?" Gildor asked, somehow managing not to sound sardonic.

"Yes I do" I snapped.

Gildor shrugged and knelt beside the wolf, one hand on his ruff, the other on his back. There was another private exchange between them. Through Vilya I sensed a disturbance in the energies around us that I could not place. It made my neck prickle as I turned my full attention to it. The ring enhanced my perception of the earth-forces in this valley to the point I could almost see them, enabling me to command the waters passing through this valley, heal the diseases of the land, keep predators from the game that wandered through and rested in Imladris. A feeling of not-rightness invaded my senses for a second, a wrenching sensation as if the ground dropped away from me. A shadow flickered over the crouching wolf, and then it was over. The energies flicked back into their normal flow, and Raven was where the wolf had been, naked, his hair falling over his face. The wolf's fur was gone and revealed a few cuts and bruises from the past battle. Gildor cast his cloak about Raven's shoulders and helped him to sit down on the couch. Raven brushed his hair back with a shaky hand and his grey eyes fixed on me, challenging.

_No! _my reason screamed _Just how can he do this? _I became aware of Gildor's hand on my arm, and shook off the shock.

'I was told the fea can control the body' Gildor replied to my mind's frantic scrabbling for understanding 'Take this as a master example of that thesis'

"It - you did not have Vil- it feels _wrong_" I stared at him, trying to comprehend what I had just seen, forgetting for a moment to feel nettled at him for reading my thoughts. Not enough that this…change…wrenched everything I could sense through Vilya, it was just…a thought I could not finish. That wolf had been real, physically and mentally. I could still feel the untamed, feral touch of a pure, beastly mind and its instincts, could remember the overlapping, unclear borders where it merged with what I would call reason...

"I did not have a ring of power" Gildor agreed, sitting down beside Raven. "And damn glad am I for it. But I have lived a little longer than you, and I remember the great wolves and the change-beasts of the early First Age. Believe me when I say that though this _feels_ not right, those felt much darker - there _is_ a difference"

Though this feels not right - . I would have loved to ask what then made him accept it "You can…you can _help_ him change …what…how…" _How can you stand the feeling!_

Gildor shook his head "It only looks like that. I can just channel energy for him, when his own is not enough. And as it is not wise for him to draw power from the…land of Imladris it had to be his and my own"

"Do you have an answer for him, Elrond?" Gildor asked after a while "If he goes, so will I"

What! "I cannot judge this now, in the midst of a battlefield" I said sharply. Gildor had made a simple announcement, yet I felt he was putting me under pressure. My ill-timed reproach of his wandering seemed to have done more damage than I had thought or ever intended.

"I am not saying this out of defiance, Elrond" Gildor answered my thoughts "Only that if a strike falls, and it will, then I will be where Raven is. Whether that is wolf clan's land or Imladris"

We must stand together if that blow falls, I wanted to shout. What had happened to him that he would rather fight like one of the rhevain in the wild than fight for the refuge he helped build? For his home?

_But he did not help, _a voice told me darkly. _He did what he could do save those that were running, he helped us do what we wanted to do, but he never took part in _that. _He never took a part in anything where we used the rings. _

_You are losing him, do you realize?_

_No,_ I answered myself _He was never really here. I remember when we build these towers – he was here, but only to guard the borders. With those dark elves we paid in steel for their protection. He said he imprisoned himself in the plain of Gondolin. He would not do it again in a valley. And he was smart enough not to become too tied to this. His heart was never in here truly, though he calls it home, sometimes. It is just a refuge – a place to hide until he has enough strength to live out there again. _

"There is much I would say, but these words must be thought over carefully lest I say too much"

I rose. Raven looked up at me.

"My people believe, it is better to speak your heart though it be hot with anger than to swallow half of what you feel you should say"

"I have no anger to hide, Raven. But what you said is a lot I must think about. We need help, that is right. The past days have certainly shown us that. But too many of those I rule have dark memories of a long age you cannot recall, though your father may have spoken of it to you. There are roots in the dark, and few will be happy about that, or be as tolerant as Gildor"

"Maybe Gildor is just not so taken with the rings of power that he would not see how much they make us little caricatures of ourselves" Gildor snapped softly "What do they do? Nothing except chaining us to them, and cutting us off from all that passes outside the borders. Maybe not here so much, Elrond, but the Havens and Lorien are little more than enclaves. They might be swept away as easily as the Ashi'kha. Only that without the rings, _we_ have no hope at all. You speak of roots in the dark, so what? Vilya's roots lie with the power of the Ruling Ring, and the roots of that one are in Sauron himself""

I returned Gildor's gaze for a long moment, feeling so angry I could hardly breathe. _Maybe I am not so taken with this wolf that I forgot all reason over it _I wanted to say but bit down on it.

"You yourself, Calathaura, gathered what information the mirdain wanted. You may hate me for that, but you too had a part in their creation"

Gildor stared back at me icily "I was asked for service" he said then, very softly "I had a price, I was paid it, and I did what they asked"

_Like one of the outlaw mercenaries_. Fury and an irrational feeling of betrayal made me speak before I could think "You, too, had your hopes when the rings were made. Don't you think I can't see how you slink off whenever they sing of Gondolin, that I wouldn't notice how much it costs you to pass the corridor of the First Age-paintings? Like all of us, you are responsible for what we came to. But you ran off into the wild and pretended not to see or know or need. And now I am here to master this ring"

Gildor blinked. I suppose I could not have done worse if I had slapped him.

'Was it my fault they fell to the spell even when they felt the Dark One lunge for their minds? Was it my fault that no one had the strength to destroy them? I was asked to speak my mind at the council. They asked me to keep one. No one ever asked me to _destroy_ them'

His sending smacked across my mind so like a whip that I flinched visibly. I stared at him in shock, part of me realizing that he had gone through my shields and spoken in my guarded mind without any apparent effort. I could not return an answer in like, so I had to speak "And would you have had the strength? Do you really think that?"

"It would have been worth a try, would it not?"

I cast about for a remotely civil answer, unable to find a single word, when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter" I snapped furiously.

Glorfindel pushed the door open "I don't think you should try to make wolves more of a liability than a ring whose bearer and works will be revealed the moment it is recovered by Sauron" he said dryly, having obviously overheard the last "I fear this is not a good time, Elrond, but there is a troop of Men arrived who urgently wish to speak to you"

I snarled "Not at all a good time. Who are they? And where do you come from?"

Glorfindel shrugged once more with a slight smile "As I said, they wish to speak to you, and would not reveal their precious names to a mere servant. And you know where I've been. I ran into those nice men on my way down here, and Celebdur kindly filled me in on what had transpired here"

I shook my head, torn between irritation and amusement. Mere servant indeed "You meant that, didn't you?"

"Very much so. Because I have to deal with you if that happens"

Did they all have to smack facts on the table today? Glorfindel returned my gaze calmly 'Go. You cannot settle this now. Not wisely at any rate'

And did they all have to be right? I turned and hastened down the steps to see what the Men were up to.

Gildor's POV

Glorfindel turned to us as Elrond left and grinned "Well met, then. I see you are still predestined to get yourselves into trouble"

I turned away from him, trying to control the red rage Elrond's by no means unsubstantial accusations had unleashed. I had never, never before struck out like this at anyone, let alone Elrond. I had never known how much force I could muster, either. I suppressed a shiver and forced myself to speak calmly.

"Maybe it would be easier if we could say better things than accusations in fury. I can't imagine that it is profitable for Raven's case"

"It was a truth, not an insult, we all know it, and he knows it best" Glorfindel glanced at Raven "Don't allow him to intimidate you. He isn't worse than a werewolf, and I hear you can deal with those. He will take your offer, he just needs some time to pound you changewolves into his ethics" He glanced out of the window "I suppose you can safely assume your session is closed for today. Those men will keep him busy. Go, I will talk to him tonight. I have to use his study anyway"

"Are you taking our side now? Or is it just to contradict Elrond?"

Glorfindel laughed "You think very lowly of me. But we simply cannot risk declining _any_ ally. Ah, and since I am errand-runner today, Glinael asked me to find you. He wants to know if you are going this fall"

"I don't know" I snapped "Really, that's the last place I want to see. They know the way quite well, why don't they just go?"

"Oh stop being stupid" Glorfindel returned "You are their leader, and they want to go with _you_. You shirked last year already"

"I didn't shirk anything and we all agreed to stay here" I took a breath and let it out slowly "Where is Glinael?"

Glorfindel made an exasperated gesture "Heavens, I don't _know_. But we are on stable duty together, so either tell me now, or come down there yourself and tell him then. And by all means go, get _out_ of here, Gildor. Right now, you are frightening"

"Thank Elrond for that" I growled, shutting the door behind Raven and me. I walked down the long corridor from Elrond's rooms, and then aimlessly turned into the next best corner. That got us down into the vine-grown, uncovered walkways. I turned to ask Raven where to go and almost stumbled aside when the wolf trotted beside me.

"Oh, flames, damn you" I snarled, trying to calm my racing heart and resuming my walk.

'I prefer not to run half-naked through Imladris' Raven snapped, moving to intercept me. I stopped so as not to fall over him.

'Look at me' he demanded, ignoring my irritation. Puzzled, I obeyed, meeting the wolf's strange, unguarded stare for a moment. I sat down with my back to the wall, feeling suddenly very weary.

"Curse it" I repeated, rubbing my forehead and wishing I could squeeze out all doubts and all rage. The wolf settled beside me, and then I felt his breath on my face. I pressed my cheek to his muzzle for a moment.

"Would you come with me? To the Towers?"

Raven hesitated 'As I am?'

I dismissed his mild amusement "As you are. I am sick of hiding this. The company puts up with it or they don't. But I need you. _As you are_"

So I had admitted it in words and forced myself to hold his brief glance. The wolf flicked his ears 'Of course I come'

The next day did not augur well. Glorfindel woke us in the morning, banging on our door.

"Elrond wants you"

I groaned "I know. Come in. When?"

"Ten minutes ago" Glorfindel grinned.

"I thought you wanted to talk to him"

"I did" Glorfindel leant against the wall easily.

I eyed him darkly "And what did he say?"

"That he would have no more goose chases, even if you are doing the leading. He swore to pluck this goose – or rather raven - feather by feather if there comes harm of it"

"Well, thank you for encouraging Raven" I said dryly.

Glorfindel chuckled "Listen, I told you we cannot risk denying any help we can get. In fact, he has almost said yes already. But you know he won't let those questions pass unanswered. And I cannot answer his questions as to how Raven drives out werewolf spirits"

"I doubt any answer I could give would be enough" Raven said glumly as we walked through the gardens. The drizzle of yesterday had cleared up, but a damp warmth hung over the valley.

Elrond was in the kitchen garden, at this time of the year a rather bleak business as most herbs had been cut back and others dried up to brown stalks. Some weeds had taken advantage of the emptiness and pink and white flowers had invaded the usually immaculate beds. A few old benches stood around the edge of the garden. Elrond had chosen the only one in the sun and by now probably dry enough to sit on. We went over to him, and greeted each other cautiously. Yesterday's confrontation hung between us, but I guessed neither of us would apologize. Not yet at any rate.

Elrond glanced at Raven thoughtfully, but came to the point without preamble as we sat down "I want to know how your people found out how to deal with werewolf spirits like that. I know none to have ever attempted such a thing, and there were plenty of occasions where it would have come in useful. As far as I know" he added to us both "these spirits are extremely powerful. He was alone. And, I take it, he was a _wolf_. _What_ did he do?"

"There are – different sorts of spirits, I think' I answered with slight hesitation when Raven did not speak "Some are too powerful to be driven out by the Ashi'kha. Their shaman said, before they learned that some of them died when attempting the too strong ones"

Shaman. I saw Elrond storing that away for later tackling. There was no Quenya word, so I had used the mannish expression. The term always carried the connotation of ghost healer, someone talking to spirits of the dead, though Raven had said that was the last thing Nightchaser could do. And I knew Elrond could sense much clearer than anyone else if he wished the houseless ones, the lingering fёar. I had tried that with Raven as I had promised, and I had no desire for Elrond to find out about that through this affair.

"You knew of the risk and still tried? Why would anyone try to separate wolf and demon in the first place?" Elrond turned to Raven "Why did they bother to drive the spirits out? Why not kill the carrier, which is certainly the safer method?"

"I do not know how the first of us learned" Raven said "It was the wolves that helped us survive the starlit dark, and we honour them as more than brothers. We would do the same for them that you would do for another elf"

"You still have to get close to a werewolf without being shredded in mid-air" Elrond observed after a while "That alone seems a wonder. He would run. Or kill you, which seems more likely"

Raven dropped his eyes, and I saw Elrond frown. He knew Raven was hiding something.

"I said the…things possessing the wolves can blank themselves out of your perception. I have…senses to detect them. And I can do the same blanking-out. They cannot perceive me"

Elrond took a deep breath "I find this impossible to believe. You say you tracked the remaining wolf, drove the demon-being away, and caught up with the fresh trail of the rest of the pack. And returned within two days. There are still several pounds of teeth and fur to manage even if you creep up on one of them. And _how_ do you get rid of the spirit?"

Raven exchanged a glance with me "The creatures my people know as werewolves are like the one you saw…they are not born in…under the shadow. They are possessed by a…spirit. They are sent by…something that in turn keeps them under control. The…spirits' hold on whatever they possess can be broken. You must…wrap your own fea around them and squeeze their clasp from the wolf's mind"

Raven stared at his hands. I looked up at Elrond who returned my gaze darkly.

'If I did not know you I would say you lost your mind'

I gave no sign I had heard Elrond's sending. He took a step forward and knelt before Raven so the dark elf was forced to look at him "What you speak of no one I know has ever tried. And if, no one ever survived to tell of it"

"I am here" Raven said after a moment.

"You open your own mind to the 'thing' you say is controlling those spirits, Raven. Has it occurred to you that that is the mind of the dark lord himself?"

'Are you implying what it sounds like?' I couldn't restrain myself 'You who carry a ring that _depends _on Sauron himself! You, who fight his mind day by day?'

Once more, I was more severe than I had intended. Involuntarily, Elrond swung around to stare at me, caught between fury and shock. He controlled his temper with an effort "I will not argue about that with you, not again, not here and now" he said tightly, switching to verbal speech in anger and getting up to face me "But I know how to protect myself. I am shielded. I have been trained. I know what I am doing. And I know what is at stake. I am not haughty if I say Raven or any other Avar can't. You yourself come here only when it suits you. You simply can not know what Vilya costs me"

I reigned in a cutting response. When I spoke, I had to whisper because otherwise I would have shouted "No, I can't know. Maybe, Elrond, I am not here because sometimes I can't bear to be what you all think I am and what I know I really am. Maybe I am not here because sometimes it feels this valley is strangling me. You are waiting and planning and hiding, and others do the work beyond the Rim. If I have learned one thing out there, it is that the rings will not save us. In the end, they will turn on us. First on their bearers, and then on all those who depended on them. However dark and twisted it might seem to you what Raven does, it has immediate effect. _Against_ the shadow"

"You sound like the twins" Elrond hissed.

"And it makes you furious because they do not believe in hiding anymore"

"Thank you for reminding me of that" Elrond said coldly "You were the one to stand up and say you would hunt orcs with them. Now if we could return to the topic of werewolves, please"

"Whatever he does not tell you, I will also stand up for the ill that might come of it"

Raven shot me a startled glance. I returned Elrond's long look stonily.

"Those are words not easily spoken, my friend" he warned. "And not easily taken back"

"I know what I say, and I know what it is Raven does not wish to say yet"

"You know him that well, then"

"I do"

"Avari you say" Raven said into the terse silence "Maybe it is right. My people still know we were not willing to leave. Our clan began while there was still only darkness in Middle Earth. But we chose long before the first light came to the Waters. We were changed already when the others decided to leave, and those you now call Avari refused. Those who refused the journey did not choose our way either. We were changed already when the first shadow returned. It is true that many were taken by that shadow. Maybe it is true they became Orcs. Wolves were there then, too, and they were taken by shadow as the elves were. They feared the shadow as did we. So, to survive, we allied ourselves to them. We call them brothers. That is why we bother to save them. _Khai'noch_, who you would call shaman, must have learned that there was a way to fight the spirits that came from the shadow. We learned to save ourselves from those things, to drive them from others of our kind, and we learned to rid the wolves of the spirits. Because we are brothers" Raven took a shaky breath "You think it is easier for the shadow to seize our minds. I cannot speak for the Avari. I can speak for Wolf Clan, and for myself. I can not use worded mind-speech or shields like you know them, but what I can do, I do well enough to handle werewolves. I will not have you put responsibility for me on Gildor. You may not like all that I could say, but no harm can come of it to you or your people. The…secrets I wish to keep concern me and Gildor alone"

"He is not Avarin, Elrond, if that is what makes you mistrust him" I said finally "You hold my lineage under my nose so often. Here is Raven's - he is half Elda"

It took something to make Elrond goggle twice in two days, but after the wolf, this was definitely one of the things. Raven looked as if he wished to melt into the space between the boards, but returned his gaze defiantly "My father is Hurondil Erríve's son. He was born in Valinor, and was hardly of age when he crossed the Ice in the host of Fingolfin"

"Hurondil died in the Fall of Gondolin" Elrond said when he could breathe again.

"No" Raven said flatly "According to your records, he did. He was lost in the mountains, and my people found him. They took a while to decide what to do, because they feared he might betray their hiding. But he stayed. He is Wolf Clan now"

"And what is your first allegiance, Raven Hurondil's son?" Elrond asked "The Eldar, or Wolf Clan?"

Raven's eyes flashed in anger, but he did not get up "My loyaltly is Gildor's"

Elrond had certainly not expected that answer. Neither had I, coming to think of it.

"But I claim no kinship with my father's people" Raven continued stiffly "They are _Khai'toh_, and I definitely am not. I was born as an Ashi'kha, and the people of my father I only know from tales of great stone cities and warriors bearing fire. The two are too different. The bright ones have hunted us like Orcs. I can be only either, and I have made my choice long ago. My father is Kelehan of wolf clan, because Hurondil made his choice also. But Fingal and me, we were sent because we were his sons, that is right. We at least knew what we might get into from his tales. We could speak some of his old language…We were not sent _here_ specially, Elrond. The clan's shamans have always been saying that the shadow is like a hawk of darkness flying over the lands - his wings spread and fold and spread again over the sun-courses. They said we were too few to fight it, so we hid and kept secret. Nightchaser now…he was very keen for what Kelehan had to tell of his world. He started…looking on _shin'a'sha_ for answers. In his dreams, I think you would say in Quenya. He found spots of power where he thought might be allies. But we could not simply walk out and ask. Long years had passed since Kelehan had come to Wolf Clan. So Fingal and I were asked to scout. We were out and about anyway. We started nosing around the outer lands, trading with wood-men for metal at first until we had a general idea what was going on. We went further and traded with Avari and wild elves, but never dared to approach _Khai'tohr_…We also killed orcs. But then I… we…made a mistake, and that cost Fingal his life. We were surrounded, and they got reinforcements. I did not want to go on then – both with life or our task. Before I could get down to business, though, I ran into Gildor here. And so I came here – if you want to say wolves are opportunists, so are the Ashi'kha. You are an obvious choice to look for an ally. And since you can not come to our lands to fight the shadow, we will come to yours"

"Which brings me to the question again" Elrond said after a moment "why wild wolves should risk their pelts for someone's…territory as you said yesterday? Why should they aid us?"

"First of all, it would be my people coming here. As wolves though, yes, I suppose. But if they come, the clan's pack will come with them, and we may be able to find wild ones willing to come, too. There are always wandering yearlings or outcast wolves. That would be a chance for them to form a new pack. A better chance to win their own territory after all is over. If there is something left after all. Why we would come here - it does not matter where we fight, except that we win. Now that I know you, what the shaman said to tell you is this: _Onakir a Ashi'kha ma khaniru a Imladris – rella n'nochr: sfai irhey scamahr; un ashara sfaye il ks-kothanr. Nan sfare il asharai hye h'ilai poran_"

"That is…your clan's language, I assume" Elrond said after a moment, keeping a neutral face. Raven smiled briefly, wryly "Yes. In Quenya it means 'Nightchaser of the Ashi'kha to the keeper of Imladris – I have this message for you: we have fights with orcs at Dark Mountain; my pack must fight if it does not wish to be killed. We will fight as your pack-mates, if you wish'"

Elrond stared at him for a long while before he finally nodded "I would be a fool to say we could not need any help that we can get. Forgive me my doubts, but if you know Hurondil's tale, you may understand that we are a bit of…prejudiced against both wolves and shape-shifters" Elrond visibly braced himself to go on "The rings offer power. You are sensitive to Vilya's presence. Your people will feel her when they come here. Your life out there I gather is hard, and full of change and loss. The rings could stay that, change and therefore loss, both. I fear the lure Vilya might have on them"

Raven looked up, and so did I. Suddenly I understood.

"Have you not thought about that? Either of you?" Elrond asked quietly.

"No" I watched him searchingly "No we haven't"

"I can speak for all of my people when I say this" Raven said softly "We wish for nothing else but to be left alone, to be left with the wolves and as what we are. We live as we do. None of us could wield such a ring. It needs a place where to work, and we wander. Nothing could change the wolves. Even if Vilya could help us, she would be there only for the needs of unfurred. Our wolf part just could not be satisfied by her. The moment looses its power under her influence. No my lord, there will be no lure for us here. The ring's presence is like a torch thrust into my face, and none of us has a liking for fire.

If you say she might heal, help us to save those that starve before their first winter or die on caribou horns, maybe we would think it would be good. But I know Nightchaser. We might think so for a day, but when the night falls we would know better – we are forced to accept change, and change ourselves, and that is why we are still there"

"Gildor?"

"You know what will happen to us when the rings fail" I said flatly "But it will not touch the Ashi'kha. We may not have considered Vilya as an attraction, but we certainly discussed her power"

Elrond closed his eyes for a moment.

"Will you trust him on this?" I pushed.

Elrond looked at me wearily "I have to, don't I? Because what I want is to save this valley. Because I want to see the shadow overthrown…I have a feeling this will not be the greatest risk we must take in this coming war, nor the maddest thing to do"

"Tell me what you think about the stones, Raven" Elrond added quietly after a while "It seems all we can do is to nose them out, still I want to try something as well I am more comfortable with. These stones cannot have been produced by orcs"

"No" Raven agreed carefully "Orcs have little magic. They are not powerful enough to produce spells anywhere near those. But I do not think there will be any more stones here. The dogs found nothing, you said. They were never meant to be found by us – now that they were, their use is greatly diminished. The orc I killed in the ruins had one with him. The orc that was with the werewolf lost his stone when I surprised them. And I assume the stone we found with Alcarion's body had been hidden in a hurry; the orc fled from Palarran and left his stone in the ravine. But he took the one that was with the orc that had dropped off the cliff instead. That is why Rawegil lost his track, and we found no stone with the cliff-orc"

Elrond nodded thoughtfully "You said Vilya's power was the same that lies behind this…these stones"

"I don't _know_" Raven shook his head. "That was a guess. _You_ should know. You are aware what goes on in this valley, what crosses the border – because Vilya is guarding it. The stone spell must have fitted into the way you use the ring so that it created no disturbance"

"It felt wrong to you when he changed, you said" I said slowly "That would mean the way he calls the change is not-" I tried to find a polite way to phrase the idea, failed and took a different approach "Vilya depends on the One – the spell must ultimately have been rooted in…Sauron's power. So not to be detected…it would be logical to assume, if you could sense the change, but not the stones, they must…well, use different energy sources"

"The energy to change is my own I use" Raven said "I can draw on earth-power, yes, and also if someone channels for me. I…said our…power may ultimately have come from Morgoth. We do not know anything. But it is ours now, and ours to use as we wish. He does not control either it or us. I cannot explain the change to you. No more than you can explain Vilya"

"Of course not. The ring was not made by me – but it was _made_, and Celebrimbor must have known the full extent of its powers as he wrought the three"

"And still he was betrayed"

Elrond sighed "That is no doubt correct, old friend. And I have no intention to take his example"

He leant back on the bench and closed his eyes. "Things are changing out there, rapidly. You were right in telling me that. I cannot tell you what the last meeting of the White Council said, and I doubt you would have the patience for that, but we are neither idle nor can we explode into action. I tell you this. I do not know how or when, but the Ashi'kha's help will be welcome. I have no idea what we are going to do. If I know, I will tell you. Is that enough for the moment?"

I glanced at Raven. "For me" he said softly "It is enough"

Chapter Notes:

Rawegil: (S), lion-sword

_Akhai_: Ashi'kha "lines"/ paintings, tattoos

18


	48. Chapter 48 Swordedge

**Sword-edge**

late summer, TA 3018

Glorfindel's POV

The day after Elrond's agreeing to have Raven call his people was filled with tension. Elrond called a small council first of all, comprised of myself and Erestor as his chief counsellors, Saelbeth for the healers, Faranaur for the scouts, and of course Raven and Gildor. The speculations concerning the stones were repeated in full, Faranaur reported no further findings but a doubled guard, and Saelbeth remained silent, listening. I, too, kept silent, as did Raven until he was forced to explain briefly what his people's motivation was to join this war. There was so much scope for argument I knew there would be endless hours of disagreement. For the time being, Elrond kept this short. It was early afternoon when we broke up again. Raven was exhausted, and for once truly looked it.

"I am going up to the rooms" he said as soon as he and Gildor were out of the door. Gildor nodded "You go ahead. I have to walk yet, or I will get mad"

I followed them out of the room, then decided not to address him. Better wait until he looked less harassed. There were reports to order, but from the window of my study I saw him after while in the glum sparring-grounds, working out against the pells. I shifted the papers into a heap with a sigh, took my cape, and slowly made my way down into the yard. I went the long way round, taking the vine-covered walkways. It was summer yet, but for today as foul as early autumn, cold and damp. There would surely be rain tomorrow.

Elrond had joined him, I saw when I turned the corner to go down the steps into the next lower walkway. I hesitated and watched a moment, thinking I should perhaps leave them alone. There were things to clear between them alright, but I was not sure if it was wise to let them do it with swords in hand. They were sparring cautiously, more moving around each other than actually fighting. Their styles had become so different that almost half their strikes went far astray of the other's blade, and it showed in their uncertain motions.

"If you want me to answer that, fight me properly" I heard Gildor say, and I knew the tone of his voice boded ill. I increased my pace, vaulting the rail of the ground walkway. Gildor attacked, but Elrond did not retreat as before and instead moved in, letting Gildor's forcefully guided sword slide up along his own blade. The crosspieces locked with a chink. It was a simple move, and very effective – by rights he had easily won. Elrond had no dagger to use with his free hand, but with their swords trapped like that Gildor's whole side was exposed and it needed no dagger to point to that.

"Even if I knew I could truly defeat you I would not sink to that" Elrond hissed softly "What happened to the Calathaura my foster-father told me about?"

So that again. I did not know what else had transpired in the time before, but more than enough obviously to have them both fuming. They had not noticed me hastening across the meadow, and I did not shout. I rued it a moment later, because Gildor seized the blade of his trapped sword with his naked hand and jerked the sword around, wrenching Elrond's blade from his hands when he used the locked crosspieces as lever. Stumbling, he drove Elrond back a few steps, and then dropped his own sword "Calathaura died in the blood and mire beside Silmarusse, that is what happened" he shouted.

"Then what are you, that you still live and breathe and walk the world?" Elrond demanded harshly, moving around and picking up his blade again.

"I was made to promise, Elrond" Gildor snarled "I was made to promise that I would lead the survivors! And that took away the one moment I might have ended my life!"

"Stop this madness" I finally reached them and, since Gildor had dropped his sword a moment ago, I dared to walk in and push them apart. They stared at me for a moment, panting, and I was not sure if they considered me another target.

"Elrond, go inside, I beg you. Leave us" I said "_Please_. This is useless"

Maybe I should have ordered Gildor to leave instead of the lord of Imladris, but I was sure he would not take any order right now. Elrond obeyed, turning sharply at the edge of the sparring grounds "You are right" he said hoarsely "We are coming to dark times indeed if all we can is inflicting pain on each other when war gathers on our borders"

Then he marched off. Well, I would see to that later. I turned to Gildor, who had dropped to his knees, burying his face in his hand. He looked as miserable as I had ever seen him. I knelt beside him, and after a moment took him in my arms.

"So you have finally come to blows, have you?"

He made no answer, but I could feel he was shivering. When I reached for his bleeding hand, he clenched it into a fist and pulled it close to his body. Even without reaching for him, just holding him I could feel his anguish. Cautiously, I lowered my shields, intending only to soothe the turmoil I could sense without even coming close enough to mind-touch. He flinched, jerking up his shields. I drew back, puzzled and a little hurt. He reached for my hand and held on it, hard.

"Alright" I said with an effort, pulling him closer "It is alright"

"What must you think I have become?" Gildor whispered after a while, bitterly "Why, why did you make me promise that, Glorfindel?"

I bit my lip, feeling tears sting my eyes suddenly "I think very highly of you" I said when I could talk again "Elrond may be right when he says you are no longer one of us – not as _he_ perceives the Eldar. But you are not throwing away what was given to you. You let it go, because you have the strength to relinquish it when it would hinder more than help you"

"I have no strength" he snapped viciously "Not even to stand up to Elrond's challenge, not even to stand up to their judgement of Raven and me"

I shook my head "You ask the impossible, my friend. You made a life for yourself after Gondolin, which many cannot claim to have managed. And you alone of us have the strength to keep denying the rings' power over you. Do not give that up for their understanding. You must take what you and Raven have, even if that means breaking with some of us. Is it worth it?"

He gave a small nod.

"As for the promise" I said at length, aware that he had not just said that in a bout of anger or frustration "I admit I made that decision for you. They say certainty of death often gives clear foresight. Maybe that was mine: I knew you had a future beyond the pass. What sort, no. But that, yes. And I can tell you now, not with authority but with knowledge, that had you died there, too, and gone to Mandos, you would not have been allowed to return"

He was very still in my arms. I could not see his face, hidden against my shoulder.

"I will not say your decision was wholly unwise" he whispered finally.

"Good" I said after a moment "Very good. Because here comes somebody who loves you. And whose love you can still return"

I left when Raven took my place beside Gildor and walked back into the houses to seek Elrond, forcefully cooling my temper somewhat. I understood both their anguish, but maybe I was prejudiced because of what Gildor was to me. He had changed, incredibly in the long centuries I had known him. And not known him. One age in Mandos stood against one age in the wilderness, with Avari and rhevain. But Gildor alone of my people had been capable of such a change. I was puzzled and hurt at his involuntary reaction today, but I did not share the sense of betrayal that so gnawed at Elrond. My friend had done what I had prayed he would be allowed to do – he had gone on. And if he now had a werewolf by his side that was as utterly true to him as Raven, that was far better than if he were alone or with one of his kind who would only share the doubts of Elrond.

But I knew also by knowledge and experience what Elrond had to endure each day of using Vilya. And every moment, the ring's power demanded his attention and control. And Elrond had to use her daily, continually, if Imladris was to remain hidden, if the hundreds of small news and message should be exchanged with Galadriel. Long ago, he had first lost Celebrian, and then his sons to their continued revenge against the orcs, and now, whatever happened in this war, he would lose either his world or his daughter. Should the war end as we hoped and Aragorn survive, Elrond would lose both. If his temper was frayed, he had every right to it.

My anger at the stubbornness that had them clash time after time over always the same thing did not abate. I walked into Elrond's study without knocking and found myself in a dark, cold room. Elrond stood by the window, staring blindly into the cold dusk.

"Why did you do that?" I demanded "Why did you have to say THAT?"

Elrond gave a small sigh and turned around to face me "I did not intend that" he said wearily "I did not want to hurt him so much, I did not know I could. I did not think at all-I…felt it was unfaithfulness, Glorfindel. Now I realize it is only disappointment. Everyone who says he is their friend must see it only means losing him over again"

"You still speak in anger" I said "He is not a steady companion, maybe. But if you called he would come to you wherever he were, or you. Our disappointment is inevitable as long as we expect him to be something he no longer is. Maybe never was. I knew him in the West, Elrond. Not well, but I know what was said in my house. And I knew him well in Gondolin. I still know him better than you do, I think"

Elrod sighed "Maybe"

I rubbed my eyes, feeling desperate. I went to the hearth and poked the ashes to life, adding wood.

"For once take my counsel without turning every word around thrice" I asked "Rest. Rest for a few days, and do not touch this ring that eats you alive"

"I know you are right" Elrond said after a while, sitting down heavily in a chair by the fire, shaking his head "But if I let her lie idle, her own power seeks out to the one. She comes close to alerting the dark one's mind itself. The more I rest, the more revealed is the valley. No Glorfindel, this will have to play itself out to the end now"

I stared into the fire for a long while "Will you apologize?"

He sighed "Of course"

"He will go to the Towers in two days" I said "You know that?"

Elrond nodded.

"He told you?"

"No" Elrond said softly "Glinael did"

The next morning when I came into the Great Hall Raven crouched at one of the small tables in the corner, looking wan and tired. The remains of a half-eaten breakfast were still on the table. I approached him cautiously, taking the chair opposite.

"Did he sleep?"

"After I made him drink _carlam_-wine, yes" Raven rubbed his eyes wearily "He cried, Glorfindel. I…he never cried before"

I stared at the patterned wood of the table. Gildor must have been pretty desperate to touch even _carlam_-wine, the weakest version of that herb "I know that Elrond did not intend things to get so far out of control" I said at length "There have always been differences between the two. But not such as now. Things are winding down to a decision in this world. The long way to the solution chafes on Elrond's temper. It…it must seem to you like there is only anger and disgust between them"

He shrugged uncomfortably, mutely.

Well, right, what should he say?

"Maybe it is well that you are going to the Towers" I said "The less the two see of each other, the better. It is just…Elrond is my friend, just as Gildor is yours. We may not be lovers, but that changes little. No one who does not carry such a ring could see what the bearers endure in these days. This is a reason, but not an apology. That, I think, is still Elrond's duty"

Raven gave a small nod "Whatever his pain I can not understand it. It is part of a past that was centuries ago, long before I was even born. Was it my…presence here that caused their strife? Or is it just that Gildor's bringing me brought some old conflict to the peak?"

"Both" I said "And none"

Raven was silent for a long while, not looking at me but neither giving the impression he would rather be left alone.

"He…is alone. Except maybe for…me, really. That is it?" Raven asked after another long while "His people…never left Valinor. He…was the only one of the Vanyar to leave…in the rebellion. And not return after the…war of wrath?"

I nodded slowly. I had not known how far he was familiar with Eldarin history.

"I think that is part of what Elrond cannot understand. In the beginning, it was hard for him and his brother to make their place. They were foster-sons of Feanor's sons. At a time when the attack on the Sirion was fresh in everyone's mind. He had to work hard until he was accorded the respect he now has, despite being Earendil's son. And Gildor…"

"Would just have needed to be willing to take the place you are willing to give him – in everybody's esteem, in the council, in Imladris…"

"Yes" I admitted "That is what it must sometimes seem to Elrond. He does not have the real memories we two have of the West. It is very different if you stand in front of the highest leaders of your people and the gods themselves and say you are no longer Inglor's son than if you read about it, or even hear it from the one who stood there. That past…is much more vivid to Gildor, I think, than it could ever be to Elrond"

"And I am just a wolf" Raven said softly "I can give him nothing except rolling up on his bed. Not even understanding. And there are times like now when even my presence seems to grate on him"

"No" I reached across the table, startling him when I took his hands "I know for sure that it is not so. Take it at face value that you do not understand. But do not fool yourself with such doubt. Do not leave him"

"I could never" Raven whispered "It will be him who must leave. Ravens…don't cross the sea"

"Do not give up hope yet" I asked softly "Go back to him"

Raven looked up for a moment "In my people's language there is only one word for both…hope and despair" he said softly "But I will go back to him" he got up and then hesitated "Thank you"

I nodded, and watched him walk from the hall, soundless on his bare feet. The way he sometimes was so lost among my people gave the wrong impression that he was young. Numbered in years, he was about Elrond's age even. Nobody thought about that, it seemed. Not even Raven himself. I wondered if he even counted his years.

If I looked with other sight, I saw the wolf, sometimes beside him, sometimes around him as shadow, then only the wolf, then only Raven. It was impossible to see just one aspect of this oscillating picture with other sight, and I dropped the attempt. Whatever Elrond saw through Vilya, it must have been different.

5


	49. Chapter 49 The White Towers

**The White Towers**

Third Age 3018

Gildor's POV

Our company passed through the uninhabited lands quieter and more careful than ever. The settled areas we crossed by night, though some dared to sing in those parts. Unfamiliar with the songs and silent agreements within the group Raven kept to the margins and the rear. He watched, took his cues from the others, and often disappeared into the forest to return with some addition to dinner.

When we camped, he avidly watched the squirrels. I thought at first he was going to hunt them, but then realized he was looking for their hoarded nuts. If that weren't raven manners at its best, I teased, wondering if he had not taken that name just for his skill in scavenging.

"I never take all they have" Raven returned calmly "I steal part of their supply, yes, but I never _raid_ their caches. And that is what a feathered raven will never give a damn about"

He was in awe of Glinael for some reason, and never came near him. I suspected it was the principle of _khai´toh_ again. Glinael was the only close friend I had who was neither rhevain nor part of my company for the freak factor we seemed to have acquired over the years. Whoever did not fit in with the other companies generally got along fine with our rather motley group. Glinael was also the only one who I would have defined as firmly settled in the old ways. Yet unlike Elrond who generally had things _his_ way and would argue with me for hours if we disagreed, Glinael simply was there. I could talk to him without continuously being asked why this why that. Like Raven he _listened_. And when he told something, even when he absolutely disagreed with me, he could do so always with a glint of laughter in his eyes. I led this group for the one reason that he had refused to become our leader, and I often wondered why he put up not only with my fancies but with the peculiarities of our assembled silliness. Had not Raven been here, I would have been with the rhevain again long since. Glinael knew, sometimes he asked, but he never argued.

We often sat together, and one morning he said "Why is Raven never with you? You said you were lovers, yet you are never together"

"He will do nothing here he might have to defend himself for" I said, taken at unawares by the question. Glinael seldom was so blunt. He had the amazing gift of tact, and often drove me mad trying to find out one thing by asking another.

"Well, I thought anyone who might manage to get to you would be proud to show off his catch" Glinael grinned insolently "He should be getting his hands on you as often as he can"

"I thought you knew me better than expect anyone could catch me to ´get his hands on me´" I returned. The old game. Glinael only smiled.

"Are you…" he began after a while again, but broke off.

I waited. Let him see how he got out of that again. I watched him instead. He was one of the three of this group who managed to wear real clothes on such a travel. I had given up after the first time we had gone to the Havens. Scouts clothing was fine. But Glinael, he could get a fire going without singeing his wide sleeves. It never failed to amaze me. He kneaded one of his rolled-up sleeves absently "Do you trust him?"

I groaned "Glinael I have heard that question in endless variations. Would I be with him, _here_, if I did not? What do you want to know?"

He blushed slightly "I know you for…quite a while"

The old game indeed. He was still big brother. And still tried to be tactful. He was worried. For me, this time. I decided to end this quickly "I can change, Glinael. I did, for him. I do"

Glinael nodded, once, and said nothing more in that direction.

Strangely enough it was Narandil who of all the company found a way to draw Raven out of his careful reserve during our travel. One night we rested in a wild piece of forest, and he even managed to talk Raven into hunting with him. The two returned considerably later than the others and brought back a young deer they had already gutted. Narandil was chewing something and had a wickedly amused expression on his face as the two wandered into the camp. Faenross went to meet them and carried the deer back to the camp with Raven. He sniffed at Narandil´s snack "Hm, roast meat. Did you eat the best parts of our dinner out there already?"

Narandil popped the rest of the meat into his mouth quickly and laughed "No. And trust me, you did not want any of that at all"

Raven snickered, but refused to enlighten Faenross what was so funny. I knew the things Narandil defined as amusing from bitter experience. Bespeaking a colony of rats to keep them from being drowned by farmers intending to flood their field was only the tip of the iceberg. The cursed rodents had followed us for three days until Narandil had found a suitable area for a new colony-site.

"Do we have to leave the region in a hurry, Narandil?" I asked suspiciously when the pair sat down beside me "Rats likely to turn up?"

Faenross laughed "Yes, or did you to kill farm-sheep again? I daresay _that _was brazen!"

"We do _not_" Narandil returned indignantly "Even I have some brains left, though a few hundred years with you, Faenross, should kill any reason still in existence. You know pretty well that was an accident"

"Oh yes, of course. An _accident_" I said scathingly "Next time you do something like that we are not going to come to your rescue at all, trust me"

"Ouch. What a hard-hearted announcement. That hurt, Gildor" Narandil laughed after me as I went over to Raven, who crouched at the far edge of the camp, skinning the deer.

"What _did _you do?" I asked quietly, hunching down beside him "I do not trust him from here to there when he has _that _look on his face. We cannot afford his pranks in theselands at all"

Raven grinned "Oh. The friend of rats is not above eating mice, that is all"

I had to laugh out loud "You got him to that? Really? I should have known he would like the idea! Hey Narandil! I take it that leaves more for the rest of us as you have already eaten!...That certainly solves the problem of keeping at least one of us fed when we pass the empty plains again" I added under my breath.

"Hold that" Raven shoved two deer legs into my hands and routinely carved meat off the bones, undeterred by the blood. He laid the pieces on the upturned skin and finally set to digging a shallow pit so that head and hooves of the deer would not lie around.

"What are you doing?" I asked when he glanced at the sky and turned the muzzle eastward before covering the pit with dirt and leaves.

"We can't afford traces. And I know you people rather bury things than let them lie in the open"

"Yes. No, I mean that…turning"

"East"

"Yes, east, I see. _Why_?"

He glanced at me, hesitating with a load of dead leaves in his hands "The hawk flies at dawn. And dawn is east. It is…the old way. What we always do. When we hunt unfurred, we always do this. Only that we leave what we do not eat in the open. Others will eat that, too…I definitely would prefer that than to be rotting in the earth" he added abruptly, casting the leaves down.

"Oh" I said faintly. Somehow this trip that confronted our separate customs so clearly taught me more about him than I had learned travelling with him alone. Here, my company expected me to be their leader, do things their way, but always before, I realized, I had done things Raven's way. Alone, he was in charge of our survival. He did things his way, and I watched, and did the same. If I did not understand, I asked. Usually, he answered. Now, walking two paths at the same time, it was like seeing my tracks for the first time.

I was prevented from asking more when Glinael shouted "Gildor where's the meat? We want to have this cooked before dawn, and I worked damn hard getting this fire going"

"Coming, coming" I grumbled, gathering the filled skin up and carrying it over to him.

A few days later we were close enough to the sea now to hear it at night, to smell it when the wind was right. The final miles were easy going now, as our company had left the settled areas and were once more in deserted lands.

The ground became sandy and the plants were now those of the coast-side. Sour-tasting orange berries clung to grey-green, thorny bushes, and the trees were low, gnarled, and bent away from the sea by the continual wind. The pale green ash-trees grew here from which Silverleaf had taken his name. The white underside of the leaves glittered against the blue sky with every motion of the air, and the trees whispered endlessly. A handful of original members of my company were no longer there. They had gone west already, one by one. I had come here often before, but the last few times had slowly, imperceptibly changed things. Not only in the company's dwindling numbers, or in the reduced number of members, but in my own view of things.

We halted on the final rise on night. The wind blew sharply into our faces and swift clouds rushed past the nearly full moon. The sea glittered in the fitful light, and the slapping of the waves drew together into a continual roar.

I consciously looked into the other direction before turning towards the towers. The high stone-structures were stark white in the clear night, rising high above the gently rolling dunes and the smooth expanse of shore further below.

"_We still remember we who dwell in this far land beneath the trees thy starlight on the western seas_…"

So we did. So did I. But starlight I had here as well, dimmed or not. No matter how glorious memories of the West were – memories they were. Not even the West was free of change. Nothing would be the same, should I return. Nothing would be the same again, ever. No second chance. Without her, it was worthless to return. Somehow.

For what? To walk the same streets and same forests and only be reminded of what I lost, what neither of us could ever gain again? No. To plead for healing was to ask oblivion. Was to deny all I had become – all I was.

I looked at the towers for distraction. They were spaced evenly. One stood at the front, on the highest rise and closest to the sea. Two stood further back and a little lower, to the left and right of the foremost tower. The left one was used for storage, and was a little out of repair. It was locked. The one holding the stone was not locked of course, and kept in good repair, the fine carvings and murals regularly freed of sand and lichens. The top of the right tower held a fireplace where a light could be kindled at need. But ships seldom came here, and the fire was mostly there to warn occasional passing ships of the rocks in the low waters before the Havens.

Most of the times, the towers were deserted, and the windows dark.

They were all silent as we stood on the hill-top. Glinael shot a look at me, and I shook my head slightly, shrugging, leaving the decision to him. I knew it was tradition to sing the old song now, but this time I found no breath and no heart.

I had not wanted to come here, yet felt also drawn to the place. That Raven had come along had been the only reason to go on this trip, and do it easily. To not be in Imladris I could think of a number of places to go, it did not have to be the Towers. The closer we had drawn to the sea the heavier I felt. I kept thinking I might have been more useful back in Imladris where I could at least have tried to keep track of things and maybe taken some action.

_Any action. _But then, _what _action? As long as Elrond had not decided on the Ashi´kha matter I could do _nothing_.

We were cut off from further action or information while we were travelling.

No one complained about my break of tradition, and we descended towards the towers quietly. The company settled near the foot of the main tower, some going up alone, others in twos or threes. Raven disappeared.

I was glad everyone left me in peace and sat on the low stone wall circling the tower. A similar wall ringed each of the other two towers, rising at the back, towards the dunes, to keep sand from overrunning the tiled spaces around the towers. I stared at the glittering sea for a long while until I finally rose and slowly climbed the long stair to the tower´s top when everyone else had returned.

And there I sat. I never once touched the stone. It sat there dark and gleaming, waiting. Nothing drove me to look into it, nothing called to me. I simply could not raise my hands and waken it. It needed a will to steer it and to see. I had none tonight. Weakness, or fear, I did not know.

So I sat there, staring at the shining globe while the moonlight travelled across its surface and the floor. The breeze came in through the open windows all round the room, and everything smelled of sea. But I thought of Raven. Or rather, my mind wandered as I sat there, pondering everything and nothing. Glinael´s question of a few days ago came back to me, and finally my memory brought me back to that night – the unlucky dream. Raven's following me. When we had first become lovers.

´I´d rather keep him as a friend than to lose him as a lover´ I had said to Glorfindel. I had held on to that for a remarkable time. And Raven had been a good friend. One I had never thought could exist. He still was. Sometimes it seemed too good to be true.

And then, with the stone sitting cold and untouched by the centuries here before me, I remembered that it was all borrowed time.

Things had changed. I had never really belonged to anything that happened, but I had always managed to keep in step. Now, things changed and for the first time I was conscious of changing with them. I changed, and yet I was left behind. Here I sat in the very tower Gil-Galad had built and had no heart to see the one place the entire Eldarin world centred on and seemingly strained to return to. We were going in a wide circle back to all we had left behind. More or less willingly.

That was where Elrond's tolerance of me failed, and with the last great argument I felt I had lost a place I had had all the long years before. Imladris had been a sanctuary I could return to from the wild, the closest to home I had here. When I could no longer stand the wild for a while or in the midst of winter I went there. I had never felt bound to it, though. I had managed to keep my distance from place and people. Now, after a few days which I found relaxing I fled from the bustle of the houses, the voices, the people, and started wandering in the valley, riding out with Faire, going into the plains beyond the Rim. I had friends in Imladris, yes. But it was all so different. They were different. Once I was there, I missed Raven's simple and unquestioning friendship. He accepted me as I was, even as I tried to do the same.

- I think he was better at it.

In Imladris, the standard question was _why_. Why this, why that, why him, why did you not come back last summer, why don't you go to the Towers this year? Coming to think of that, Raven asked a lot of questions. But he asked _how_. How did you come there, how did you do it, how did it happened. He seldom inferred intention or questioned my choices – he wanted no justification. To him, it was perfectly acceptable to say _I don't know, it just happened_. It was acceptable to be swept along. Imladris increasingly forced me into a role I no longer wanted. I was Gildor Inglor´s son there, no matter I had no claim to that title. I _wanted_ no claim to that name, but it followed me. For lack of anything else. I was known for riding in the Last Alliance. But I had done that chiefly because I had got too far into that to want to back out anymore. I had led the rhevain, and I had left it at that. I had not even _led _them, as was constantly said. I acted as interpreter, as mediator, I rode _with their_ leaders, but not _as_ leader. Somehow, I had stumbled along with Gil-Galad, then with Elrond. And when all was over, I went back to the wild elves. That was one side. Gildor of Rivendell.

But Imladris was small, and memory not necessarily was positive. There was a lot of memory in Imladris. Also of who I was in the other respect. Legally, an outcast. The thing with the waived title. There was the customary bickering in Imladris, too. Intrigue maybe was too harsh, but there were sharp tongues saying the same I was used to hearing since the beginning. Mostly, it was silly things, unimportant things. In the high families there was golden hair, dark, or red, smooth or curled. Not reddish-blonde, slightly curled like mine. So what had happened in that line? It was an old joke, sometimes an old insult, but it survived and I got so tired of it I astonished myself. Raven did not care. Not as my people did. "It's beautiful" he said, fascinated by the colour, and telling me the Ashi´kha would call it _skuya_, which was an old word now meaning honey. Apart from _shin´a´sha_ that was the first word he taught me in his own language, and the first he explained to me in all the Ashi´kha codes. That was why he held on to pronouncing my name Kil´tor, sometimes. Desert Lion. He was much more flattering in his description than my own people. I had never seen the beast whose name I bore in Ashi´kha. Up north, and then east along the mountains of snow, Raven said were caves which walls were painted to show lions and other creatures that did not live here. It was a strange, sentimental notion to think we could go some day, not north, but far southeast where the desert lions lived. But we held on to it, somehow.

Sometimes I wondered how much of Raven's unquestioning was indifference. But that was stupid. He was all but indifferent. Had he been, we had never become lovers. He would have never followed me. He could not tell me what his prime motivation had been. The wolf's way of making the best of life? Purely selfless action? I don't think either, and it really wasn't important anymore. It had cost him a lot to come after me in the first place. Answering something I had kept hidden and secret as well as I could. In a way, he had thrown everything away that night he had ever held on to, all his integrity. For my sake.

I had been determined not to let things get this far. For both our sakes. We had found a way to be together, accept the other as he was. We should not go further. Conflicts could be settled as we were, because there were differences we did not acknowledge, only accepted. He was wolf, or part wolf, I could not say, did not care about an exact formulation – there was a part of him I could never understand. Or could I? Were we as close as we could get, and to go further would only inevitably break what frail connection we had? Or would it strengthen it? How far could we fully acknowledge and not just take at face value?

I did not want to give myself away, give myself vulnerability when I did not have to. That was one thing. But to my surprise, my concern for Raven was much stronger. I was assured of _my _strengths and _my_ weaknesses, but not of his. For all his fierceness in fighting, his introvert pride, I knew he was very much defenceless. He had little confidence in himself when he had to maintain it towards others. On his own, he was strong, and self-assured. As wolf, he never doubted himself, his strength, or his limits. The wolf was capable of accurately estimating himself. But not Raven. It had taken long for him to trust me. He would never trust strangers. The people of Imladris frightened him. One question at the wrong time, one mocking remark could go straight through his resolve and his calm. He had set all his trust in his brother, and found it near impossible to set it on someone else now, without Fingal. He would, but only once, maybe. There was no strength in him to take back what he gave once. Everything concerning himself besides pure facts he considered as secrets which were dangerous to reveal. They could be taken, used as weapons, used against him. Unlike me, he would not be able to walk away and turn his back on persons he found he could not cope with. So he gave little or nothing. I knew that since I had met him, since I had touched his mind in fёa-raika and he had nearly killed us both in terror. I had taken nothing, and gradually, his fear of me had turned into trust, and to me he gave some of his secrets, bit by bit. What I had also learned was that the best way to win his trust further was to _trade_ – in his way, return a secret for a secret. What I could tell about me I had no problem telling anymore. Should people make of it what they wished, I cared precious little. Should they tell what they wished, that too touched me very little. As a fact. It might affect my patience and friendliness to them, but not my confidence in myself. To Raven, who had grown up in a reclusive clan with as many members of his race as there were people in Rivendell alone, everything in dealing with others was a matter of personal risk and personal hurt. If he could walk away when he wished, he did not give a damn what others thought of him. It did not touch him, less even that it touched me. But he came to Imladris as a stranger, and could not walk away as the wolf would. He would not leave me, and he was constrained to cope with the world of the valley.

I did not want to be the one to go too far judging by my own ideas and hurt him. What if we found out we had made a mistake? What if we became too close to get along? I could walk on, hurt maybe, but I survived. I always survived. With Raven, I was not so sure. He would set his heart once, and I feared whatever I could give would not be enough, would not be up to that high stake.

I was frightened, too, of that. That he would leave.

And a tiny insistent voice, the voice that had led me back to Bearclaw in the beginning, said you damn well want to go further. And then the decision was left to me, he turned away leaving it to me, everything, and I went to him. We had been fighting the same demons at that moment, in a way. We had to let go of our precious defences, and it was a question of who would do it first. He did. I don't know why. I had gone to him fully conscious that I would have to face what I had carefully ignored for centuries – and I was frightened of it. Since the night the orcs had caught me and Silverleaf barely managed to get me away no one had ever touched me. I had seen to that. A good deal was pride, but more was fear. I had been a fool to get caught, the memory haunted me, and my mind replayed the sheer panic of that night at the most unfitting moments. When I had gone to Raven I had done so with the intention that if we were going to do this, if he was complying with my need, it would not be at his expense. I had not expected him to give that much all at once – himself. If Raven was frightened by his own memories he was prepared to ride roughshod over his fear, and he did. He shamelessly used the wolf and my own desire to get us over that line. And he spared me from facing my fears right then.

It was strange after that first night, the way we were so cautious around each other. That is, _I_ was writhing in discomfort, not Raven. He had followed pack-rule relentlessly and still did afterwards. I was the leader, and he followed. It was a matter of fact for him, but not for me. For him, only the wolf´s concept of dominance and submission existed. His own fear, that of unfurred, he held separate from that. He was perfectly at ease with things as they were. He would never have demanded that I give him what he gave me, never scratched at my defences. In a way, that forced me to acknowledge that piece of the past to myself much sooner with his complete indifference as to who had the passive part than I would ever have done had he confronted me. His unconscious action stung my pride and my sense of fairness and equality. I think I had little pride in other matters. If there was an easy way, I would take it. Honour? I beg pardon… He could be _i´tan´rak_, the follower, all he wanted in our pack, but not on the sleeping furs. Still, I had to steel myself for a long while until I found the strength and courage to face my ghosts and let him have me.

I had always grumbled at him for being the oyster he was, keeping all his secrets as a dragon sitting his hoard. After that first night, I found out one thing I would never have thought possible he could feel. What I knew of his time with the orcs was what he had told me. He hated them, he killed them, he avenged his brother's death and the humiliation they had caused him personally. He sometimes hated himself for having got himself into that spot in the first place. I could very much sympathize with _that_ notion. But what he had always held as a shield was the cold assessment that his body was his weapon, one he would put the best use. That was how the wolf thought. That was Ashi´kha mentality. So far, he was clear on that. Though I could not think the same, I understood. Maybe a healthy thought, a protection. Something very like what Silverleaf had done. There was a twist in Raven's thinking though, one that turned back on itself without mercy. He would have played the orc´s game to the end for the sake of killing him. If I still wanted him, right. It was my decision and he would rely on that. But he would not take me, he had no right to that. That thought had kept him from taking the first step. I had not wasted a thought on _that. _I had been frightened of the fact, the memory. He had tested the ground before, gently, tested my reactions. But that night he backed up. I had gone after him, demanded to know why he would not lie with me. He had been crouching by the river then. It seemed trouble always brought us to one river or another. I sat beside him, held him. When he had finally answered, it had been so low I had hardly been able to hear him. _I can´t lie with you. I am unclean. I cannot sully your light with my darkness. _It had taken me a long moment to see what he meant. _Khai´toh_, Eldarin haughtiness, classing the world in Calaquendi and Moriquendi.

I had been shocked speechless that he could still think that way. Was it his own idea, because of what _Khai´toh_ meant? Or because it looked as if all my people could say about him were doubtful questions? Did he think I thought that way? _Demon-hound, I love you _I said after while _Is that not enough answer for you? _

Talking about defences. It was enough answer, I guess.

And here I sat staring at a blind stone, and suddenly I knew why I could not find heart to touch it. In the beginning, I had thought Raven defenceless. In some things I knew he was. I had been certain of my own strength. Because he was _i´tan´rak_, never challenged either his or my notion. Now, I was not so sure. I could not face the idea of being without Raven. I needed him as he needed me. I trusted him.

Valinor had seldom looked like a sanctuary to me. I did not want to go back, though often my heart cheated me, telling me I missed the West. To look into the stone now would be to acknowledge the dwindling time. Bring the choice nearer. The decision. I doubted I would have a choice. I felt haunted, cheated out of something I had taken centuries to find.

The moon was low over the sea when I descended from the topmost room. There was a grass-grown and wind-sheltered dell above the yard where most of the company had gathered in loose groups, talking or singing quietly. The night was not cold, and there was no need for more elaborate shelter.

I hesitated. Should I join the others? I was not hungry, and not in the mood for company. Company, at least, that would discuss news and prospects of the West, look at old memories and recount the old tales. I did not wish to talk, sing or remember at all. Not with this feeling of betrayal. The stone bred despair rather than raise hope or give relief. At least for me. And I had not even touched it. I glanced around for Raven. Narandil the Impossible and Faenross were absent as well at the moment, and I decided that I was not being too indulgent in seeking out my own companion now.

Narandil and Faenross, though, I thought grimly, would take ship together if they ever left. Sometimes I was not so sure about that. There was something fey about them. They were the sort who might dare the notion of Fading, or who could board a grey ship with the courage to challenge the Valar. They had both been born in Middle-earth. Maybe blissful ignorance gave them that courage.

Deserted places always intrigued the wolf. They drew Raven because they were sanctuary. I made my way across the sandy path to the storage tower and sure enough Raven was there, perching on the crumbling wall and looking at the sea as well. I halted a moment, a little puzzled. He wore one of my gowns, the only black one I had. It was a bit large for him, and he had rolled the sleeves up. He felt encumbered in things even I considered plain. Had he been forced to wear Ginael´s robes he probably would have strangled himself before managing to get them over his head at all. With the Ashi´kha tattoos invisible, and his hair combed and unbound he looked startlingly like…one of my people. It took me a moment to phrase that. I forgot the fact that he was indeed half Elda more readily than that he was also a wolf. And he never bothered to remind me. Indeed, I don't think it meant anything to him. He considered himself wholly Ashi´kha.

He shifted to make room for me when he heard me approach.

"That was fast" he said after a while of sitting in silence "If I was of your people I would ask _why _that is, now"

I smiled wryly, but answered nevertheless "I don't exactly have much to…say. Or see"

"There is…no one?"

I shrugged "There could be…is. But this time…"

"But this time you had no mind to face family"

"How do you know _that_?"

"Oh" Raven smiled weakly "Assumptions"

"And of what kind, if I may ask?"

"You told me, in a way. None else of your or Silmarussё´s family left Valinor. So they would still be there. I assume, that is"

"Hm"

"Have you…ever spoken to your…father afterwards? After you left, I mean?"

The question hit me unawares. Finally I said "Once. Long ago"

"What is it like…the West?"

I glanced at Raven, but he avoided my eyes.

"This would be your chance to see for yourself"

"No" he got up abruptly, startled "I don't think so"

He leant on the wall and looked at the sea once more. The low moon cast a strait of silvery light onto the waves. It would be gone soon, and the night would grow darker.

"Why not?"

"I – I am dark elven, Gildor"

"So are many others of the company"

Raven just shook his head. He did not sit down again, and stood clutching the stones of the crumbling wall.

"Walk with me?" I asked after a while of more silence "I don't want to go back to the rest already"

The shoreline was completely deserted at this time. It was ebb now, and there were hardly any waves. The receding sea had bared a wide stretch of hard, moist sand which reached ahead into seeming infinity. It was easier to walk there than to plod through the dry, loose sand near the dunes. We meandered along the uneven margin of washed-ashore objects for a while. Raven took my hand and tugged me forward into a run which he quickly turned into a race. I was tired and felt weary, but for some reason I followed.

"Don't you dare turning wolf now" I panted after a while as we jumped a series of small potholes "That would not be fair _at all_"

Raven laughed and slowed down again. We trotted along a wide, deep pool that had been left by the receding waves.

"It's great, you know, going with a pack along the shore. Miles and miles where you don't have to watch your feet and just run flat out"

"I suppose so" I halted and looked back the way we had come. It was quite a distance.

Raven stood behind me and leaned against my back, still panting. He followed my glance. The moonlight was gone now. Though it never got really dark at the shore, night-sight merited the effort to use it if one wanted to avoid the scattered pools which could be surprisingly deep sometimes.

Suddenly I truly wished I could be wolf myself. The way Raven simply changed and shook off the trouble of a complicated elven universe. The way he had the wolf's body with all its power and equipment for the wild at his command. The notion jumped on me like a mountain-lion and refused to let go its hold on my neck.

"Why don't you, now?" I asked, trying to hide my unexpected emotional uproar. I had changed, yes, I _wanted_ to change – but how far was I going? How far would I be allowed to go?

Raven's closeness was making me think of other things than wolves or stones "Tonight nobody would see you, and you don't have to be careful"

"It's no fun without you" Raven stayed where he was, closing the space between us and leaving little to be guessed of his intention. He never questioned the way things had turned, the way _he _had made things turn. For the wolf, it simply happened when the time was right, he did not _think _about the when, why or what manner.

"I can't believe the wolf is only concerned with fun" I said "Hunting seems quite exhausting business"

"But he is, mostly. The wolf" Raven sounded thoughtful "We tend to make the best of things. And hunting - _is_ fun"

"Even if you make no prey at all? How many times do you fail in killing what you hunt? How do you transfer wolf-way to _this – _our life?" I turned to watch Raven's face. He did not let me go, but looked away into the distance.

"See each day as a prey" he replied after a moment "Then it matters less if things go wrong"

I wondered if that reasoning went astray somewhere, but flames, I didn't really care! I wanted to think like a wolf, and I would not break that effort off right here. I turned our walk in the direction up the beach, towards the dunes, and Raven fell into step beside me.

The winding, deep-cut grooves between the dunes hid us from view, but did nothing to cut off the sound of the sea. A piece of horizon, where sea and sky met in a line of dark haze, was visible through a dent in the sand-hill in front of us.

"Why?" I asked later once more, conscious of my insistent Eldarin whys "Why do you not want to look?"

I felt him shrug uncomfortably "To see it would make it more real than I want it to be" he said quietly.

"But it _is _there, the west"

"I know. As a fact. And I don't want to… – Gildor, to really see it would take even more power away from the Hawk than just the knowing could ever do"

"You used to nag your brother for stories of the west"

Raven winced "I did…Please" he added suddenly "_You _forget the stones, the west, at least for a while"

"Do you forget the Hawk?" I returned "Even for a while?"

Raven lay very still for a moment "Yes. If I would not it…things would look much darker. Much more – hopeless…You can see the West" he said again after a pause "The Hawk – it is not like you can see _him. _Only _khai´noch_…only the shaman can see him, really. So we have to…go to him if we want more…security. We did not consider us as Elves before. We still don't. Not in that respect. The Hawk makes no difference between the _oshar_ he guides…But there are…we have so many things in common – maybe, we are like…like _khai´toh_, a little. That is why it puzzles us so much. The West, that is"

"And being Hurondil´s son does not make things easier, I assume?" I ventured after a while.

Raven sighed. I could feel his breath on my back "No"

"What about – Khai´la? What about your mother?"

"Oh" Raven laughed softly "She has no reason to bother"

"If that is supposed to enlighten me, it doesn't"

"She can be – very perfectly wolf" Raven said slowly "And I had no reason to start really _thinking _about the West or Mandos…if there is any _relevance_ for us before – well – before Fingal was killed. Before that, I was simply curious…"

"You have looked in all places you could find – except that you can't…get clearness about Mandos. And you were pretty close to finding out about both Mandos and the Hawk yourself"

Raven gave a short laugh "But it matters not now. I don't want it to matter now"

"What about a late night swim?" he asked abruptly, stretching.

In the sea. If that wasn't stretching my luck. I glanced at the line of dark, low waves down the beach speculatively.

"Yes" I said after a moment "Why not"

Raven snickered.

_Why_ again.

11


	50. Chapter 50 The Ford

**The Ford**

October 20th Third Age 3018

Glorfindel's POV

A sudden gust of wind rushed through the trees along the river, filling the night with additional roaring. The horses milled frantically at the edge of the Bruinen as if they sensed the river's intention. In the firelight both the ranger's and the Halflings' faces looked ghostly. On the other shore, Asfaloth neighed, dancing on the spot. They won't go in, I thought with rising panic. Fire and one elf simply were not enough to herd a handful of wraiths, no matter how much trust Elrond placed in me. What if they charged? Even if they wouldn't come near me, that was little help for my companions. Damn it, Gildor, I could need you right now, I thought darkly. He had fought the werewolves most effectively, long ago. I had no doubt that his presence would give the wraiths a small pause. Together, we might have a fair chance.

Well, he wasn't here. Aragorn and I advanced on the riders, waving flaming brands. The Halflings, clutching their torches in shaking hands, followed despite their obvious terror. I closed my eyes, summoning all powers I could reach. The dark forest slipped out of focus, the figures of the wraiths grew bright and powerful, sitting on pale, in their world barely visible shapes of horses.

The lure of the Ring did not seem strong enough to draw them into the river – they feared the water much more. One Nazgul might turn from me. But all nine? Then the first horse slipped and splashed into the river as the rider kicked it forward. There was a warning gurgle, and we hurriedly advanced behind them. Just a step further. The other horses would follow. A black shape shot out of the bushes to the side and up to the horses. The Halflings did not see it, but Aragorn and I did.

"No" I mouthed as he reached for his knife. The shape dissolved into wolf-form and snapped at the horses' legs, twisting to avoid being trampled, growling and unnerving them. Between the rushing water and the snarls and shrieks in a sudden motion all horses turned and surged forward, bearing their riders into the middle of the stream. The wolf was gone so quickly it almost seemed he had never been there in the first place.

Aragorn shouted something triumphantly, and then the flood came. I backed away from the rising stream, pulling the ranger with me. The wolf was momentarily forgotten by Aragorn. After what seemed an eternity the flood was passed, the river still running high. We snatched up the Halflings and waded across the ford, fighting against the still strong surge.

In the yard Elrond plucked the unconscious Halfling from Asfaloth's back. I rushed into the kitchen, shouting a hasty apology to the cook as he dropped a large pan in fright and quickly snatching up some supplies. I was back in the yard in a moment, slapped the stirrups down once more and mounted. Asfaloth turned out of the yard without asking and fell into a canter before I was fully in the saddle. He had thundered across the last bridge out of the valley when Aragorn caught up with us, riding an unsaddled horse I did not recognize.

"Where the bloody hell are you going?" he demanded "Why are you not staying with Frodo?"

It was hard to talk over the noise of hooves on stone. For a moment I considered overhearing the question, bending low over Asfaloth's neck as we passed under a branch. But that was impoliteness without reason, and Aragorn certainly had a point from his side of things.

"Elrond does not need my help, I told you I am useless with Morgul wounds" I returned when Aragorn drew level with us again "I could ask the same of you"

Another branch. Aragorn hissed over the wind "I have a pretty good reason. Someone must check if they are gone for a while, so I am going"

"Then we have something in common" I wished he would just stop questioning.

Aragorn laughed, but was not going to leave the track "You are playing your own game again. What's it about, tell me now, you're not getting rid of me. What about that – that thing by the river?"

I glanced back over my shoulder at him. The wind of our speed whipped my hair around and into my eyes annoyingly "You got along well with Raven, didn't you? He just did us quite a favour"

"Yes, but what's Raven got to-?"

We turned a sharp bent and Asfaloth leaped the final rise with a mighty leap, leaving whatever Aragorn said a few feet further down. On the even ground he gathered more speed than he had been able to hold up the steep path. Aragorn's horse panted behind until he caught up with us once more as we crashed downhill towards the ford a while later. The ground became uneven and rocky, and I told Asfaloth to slow down. We went slowly and careful now, eyes and ears to the surrounding forest. I cautiously lowered my shields and looked for the empty, cold echoes the wraiths cast in my mind. I found nothing, only the echoes of echoes, a ripple of not-rightness in the natural order of a night forest.

"What's Raven got to do with that for all the world?" Aragorn repeated when we stopped near the river, some way down from the ford. The sound of the water was loud in the night.

"He should not be here at all, he is supposed to be at the White Towers" I glanced at Aragorn. "He was the wolf"

Then I stared hard into the darkness, ignoring whatever look was on the man's face. The shaggy coat of Aragorn's sweaty horse steamed in the cold night air. Both horses' ears were pricked.

"There he is" I said "Forget what you've heard about werewolves. Raven is -"

The wolf left his cover with a deliberate rustle and took a few steps towards us, displaying a curious mixture of conflicting body language. He had his head and tail down, but his ruff was fanned out and his ears flat to his skull. Relieved to find him unharmed I dismounted and took off my cape.

"Change" I ordered briskly, walking over to the wolf "We need to talk and Aragorn has no mind-speech"

I had seen Raven change when he used his own strength and technically knew he could draw energy from the land, but I decided I understood Elrond. The effect was jarring. Not in terms of the powers Vilya controlled, I did not sense _them_, but the feeling of wholeness I could detect in the land. Raven's bit of magic seized and twisted that wholeness as it seemed to me. I cast the cape over the naked dark elf and helped him to stand. Raven was pale under his tan and shook slightly.

"Well met Ranger" Raven looked past me at Aragorn who was obviously keeping a carefully empty face "You once wanted to know how I knew the wolf-things, remember? It was personal knowledge"

"I see" Aragorn let go of his horse's reins and moved up to us "I remember the time I found you with a pack of wolves mauling some unlucky orcs. It is a strange company you keep"

"Yes, don't I?" Raven snapped "I fight on the side of those who kill my kin"

Aragorn took a moment to unwrap that statement, and frowned in anger.

"Stop that bickering" I pushed the hastily wrapped food-bundle into Raven's hands, who turned away from the ranger and sat down on the ground with relief.

"Deepest hell, what have I done?" Raven asked through a teeth-full of cold meat as I sat down, patting the ground for Aragorn to sit as well "Now you ride out to feed wolves?"

I frowned "I guessed you'd be hungry. You're supposed to be far west. What are you doing here?"

"Gildor's bidding" Raven glanced at Aragorn and swallowed, unaware for the moment of his shaken and dishevelled appearance "You spy well, I had a hard time tracking you without you catching me"

"You?" Aragorn stared at him "I knew something was shadowing us, but I could say nothing to the Halflings. It was you all the time? I thought it was some dark thi-"

Raven smiled sardonically "It was. I am told my presence does not feel necessarily wholesome but I was asked to follow you, and there were other…interesting things on your trail. It was not planned that you…well find out what I am"

Aragorn shook his head slightly "Gildor's bidding? Frodo said he had met him, that he would send messages"

"They met, he did, and I was his last message" Raven said through another bite and turned to me "Are you going to tell me I was a fool tonight that you come crashing out here like the Wild Hunt itself? They are gone, all of them, even their horses are dead I think. The river saw to that"

"Where are they?" Aragorn watched him with an inscrutable look on his face.

"Downstream about a mile from here" Raven hesitated a moment "Got smashed on the rocks, the horses. Do not go there yet if you don't have to – there is…well, if you find my presence disturbing you may not want to feel the current atmosphere of those places"

"They are still there?"

Raven cleaned the bone off and started on the bread "I don't know. The feel there made the wolf want to run, and that is something. It felt worse than when they were visible. The birds were fleeing the place"

"I look" Aragorn got up. He glanced at Raven uncertainly, then settled on saying nothing "Meet you back here"

Whether he was being tactful or wanted to satisfy his own curiosity without directly saying he did not trust Raven I could not say. Aragorn had lived long enough in Imladris to know elven business, as that Halfling had put it. Would he still count Raven as an elf? Well, that was not my concern and probably not Raven's. For my part, I was satisfied with the dark elf's word.

"We would have had some job, getting them all in" I said softly "They were caught between the ring drawing them and the river repelling them"

Raven shrugged uncertainly, poking the remaining dried fruit. He had practically inhaled the food, and was just finishing off the bread. He crouched on his heels, obviously too agitated to sit still. Though I had thought I knew Raven I found him unsettling right now. It was impossible to say just how much the closeness of the wraiths had affected him, what he would do if he considered one of my actions a threat. He could sense Vilya even when Elrond was not using her, which I could not. What had it cost him to come so near the wraiths then?

"I did not know you were so close to them" I pushed "You had to be, all the while…"

"They are death" Raven said after a moment "Feel like it. I do not know what they are. I was only wolf. The wolf does not fear death. He wants to live, but…They were there all the time, yes" he added after another long moment, softly "I had to stay near to keep startling the horses. They were trying to close in on the group. I could only jab at them. But it was obviously enough to keep the wraiths from reaching them much sooner before the ford…They take the will off you, like cold water-"

"The place by the river – you say they were gone, but still present"

"Gildor said they would be stronger when they are not visible. He was right. They must have been _furious_ just then. I keep thinking I should not have poked my nose in" Raven pulled the robe closer around him "The ranger does not trust me, does he?" he added swiftly.

"Yes and no. But he feels as much under scrutiny with foreign elves as do you. He is not one of us, and a few are busy to not let him forget that"

Raven snorted softly "We sparred. We talked. He should have realized I know less than he does"

"You are alien even to us"

"Obviously. Is there word to carry back?"

"No" I reached out quickly, laying my hand on his arm for a moment. Raven flinched, but I could feel the clinging terror of the wraiths draining from him.

"What did you?" he demanded, pulling back "How-?"

I shrugged "I know them better than you do. They are powerless without shape, but still shapelessness also increases their terror"

"I am going back west tonight" Raven said after a moment regaining control.

"TheHavens? That will take you seven days at least"

Raven shook his head "Three to the Towers. One to where we supposedly meet. I should meet them somewhere near the Amon Sul"

"One?" I echoed "Are you going to fly?"

Raven gave a wan smile and popped the last fruit into his mouth "The wolf travels fast. Very fast, if need be. I do not wish to stay near here any longer"

"Well, I can imagine"

"Thanks for the food" Raven smiled crookedly. I watched him change and wade the river, melting into the trees on the other side. One day to Amon Sul. I shook my head slightly. Aragorn returned a short while later, looking pale.

"I suppose they are gone" he said, going to his horse and rubbing the shaggy beast's muzzle Where is…Raven?"

"Gone west to meet up with Gildor's company" I said, mounting Asfaloth "Let us ride back. I suppose you are just as hungry as he was"

"Well, that was a night" Aragorn said dryly when we parted at the stables "I will remember that Wild Hunt thing when dealing with your rage next"

"Wild Hunt?"

Aragorn laughed "I get _you _not knowing something? That I live to see that day! Meet you in the hall"

The next day Saelbeth, Faranaur, the twins and Aragorn started scouting-rounds of various lengths. Saelbeth returned much sooner than expected, but I could not ask for the reason for a few days. Then I was sent for by him, asking me to come to the stables. Mystified, I went into the yard where he waited and then he led me into the wing where the mortal horses were stabled. There was a large but miserable looking black horse there I had never seen before.

"One of the rangers brought it?"

Saelbeth shook his head "I brought it"

I blinked, and went closer to the stall. The horse was a gelding, as tall as Asfaloth but nearly twice as massive. His lower legs were covered with long hair that hung over hooves large enough that two of Faire's might have fitted into a print. Mane and tail were long, but his coat partially chafed and wan. I saw half-healed wounds all over him, hidden mostly by the black of his fur, and he stood in a way that told me he was at least one leg was sprained. The horse acknowledged our presence only by slightly raising its head and watching us from under a mass of tangled mane.

There was something vaguely strange and alarming to this beast.

"Curutano said it would be better to…end this" Saelbeth said after a moment "He guessed it was only my…soft-hearted fancy that I brought it here instead of killing it outright when I found it. By rights he should have drowned"

I was silent for a long while, putting his words into context.

"You know I went out with the scouts two days after Aragorn brought the Halflings here" Saelbeth said hurriedly "My area was around the ford and some miles downstream, including the place where they had found the drowned horses. When I came there, I found that not all had drowned" He gestured slightly at the horse in the stall "That one stood there in the middle of the river, where the other horse-bodies had got caught in a tree that lies across the flow. His reins had got tangled in the branches. I think both Aragorn and Raven took them all for dead while this one was well…just out cold. I was about to shoot him, but…you see what I did. Elrond was so mad. And the stable-master refuses to care for him. I do what I can, but I have not enough knowledge of horses"

"You can handle him safely?" I asked doubtfully.

Saelbeth nodded "He is...very strange, not like a…well, not like a horse. He does nothing whatsoever. I had him outside every day, or night rather, because it is always worth an argument when others encounter us. But…what do you say? I don't know what to do. Can he bring evil here as they all seem to fear?"

"I don't think a simple horse would bring evil anywhere" I said slowly "It is strange, but not…well, I suppose I am prejudiced on such things, Saelbeth"

He smiled wryly "I can handle him without so much as a shiver of his skin. But with humans, he goes berserk" he pointed at the wrenched door of the last stall in the row "I had one of the rangers try and treat some of those cuts, and the horse went mad on him. When one of the Men comes inside and to this stall, he starts rolling his eyes and generally wreaking havoc. The rest of the time, it is like he is dead on his feet. As now. You see, not even those ears move as we talk"

"Not much" I said thoughtfully. I unlatched the door and edged inside. A huge horse. Knowing where he came from, I deeply admired Saelbeth's courage to take him out of the stream and attempt to bring him here. Now the horse watched me, and when I held out my empty hand, it inspected my palm briefly before turning away and standing still as a rock. As Saelbeth had said he did not even twitch or shudder his skin when I touched the rough fur and searched the wounds I could reach without coming too near those giant hooves.

"I did not dare yet to try and smooth them a bit" Saelbeth said "The horn's all splintered and broken, but with those none-existent reactions of his I cannot tell if it pains him or not. Though he limps, he certainly walks as if it does not. He should be shod, but alone with Curutano I don't dare try that"

I left the stall and shut the door behind me "You are mad, you know, taking this horse here?"

Saelbeth shrugged uneasily "So Elrond said"

"And you want me to tell him he is to stay?"

Saelbeth shifted nervously "Well, you got him to…accept the Ashi'kha"

"They at least do not come straight from Mordor, my friend"

"But there is nothing evil about this horse! You said so yourself"

I sighed, briefly wishing someone else with less pity had taken Saelbeth's round that day. Well, this could not be changed. I tamped down on the thought that this very horse had carried one of the Nazgul a few days ago.

"No there is not. Not as far as I can say. But I cannot take care for him if Elrond refuses to let you out of the patrols" I hesitated "When Gildor's company returns, ask Raven. He seems the likeliest choice to see to this beast for you. Gildor might, but he will be whisked into the councils as soon as he sets foot into the yard. Raven might have less knowledge of horses than you, but I don't think that will matter much with this one. If you tell him what has to be done, it will be better than no one touching this beast for fear of shadows"

"I suppose" Saelbeth stared at the horse.

"What's the name, by the way?" I asked.

Saelbeth shrugged "I have given him none. Curutano only refers to him as Rochan"

"Horse. As good as any name…You'd rather I asked Raven, right?"

Saelbeth nodded sheepishly "Yes. I…well, I would not want to meet the wolf alone"

As I had expected Saelbeth was not excused from scout-duty. Elrond's patience with weird things was running thin, and at least with the horse I could understand his refusal. But on my plea the beast was not ejected from the stables, and after the return of Gildor's company Raven took over caring for horse. It turned out that ignorance of horse-business was of absolutely no account with this beast as Rochan did not react like a horse at all. He seemed to have no intentions of his own, and followed any direction with unnatural calm. The first day Raven alone was in charge of the black horse, he led him out into the meadow and left him there until dark. The next day I helped him let the other horses out as well to see if they would get along. Rochan ignored them completely, and when one ventured near him, he raised his head high and flattened his ears, giving a growling snort. The herd soon stopped approaching him, so after that Raven simply opened the stalls and let the horses thunder out into the meadow each morning. After five days, he did not have to lead Rochan after them separately because the horse finally followed them on his own when the door was opened. On Saelbeth's return from his patrol the two had Curutano smooth the miserable hooves and shoe the horse properly. The wounds healed, and the horse's coat thickened and gleamed again. Gradually even the stable-master dropped his attitude of enmity towards the strange beast.

"You know" Raven said one night as I looked in on him on my way from Asfaloth's stall "It is funny how some words of our languages are the same with different meanings. But still, they seem to fit"

"You think so? Gildor has never seen a living desert lion"

"Nor a dead one" Raven smiled wryly "There is still hope we can change that. But I meant that horse. In your language, _rochan_ simply means horse. You don't credit him with an own name, because he is not like the horses you know. It is as if he had no mind of his own. Or it certainly feels like that, sometimes. But in Ashi'kha, _rochan_ means 'eaten'"

I blinked "Well. That fits strangely indeed then…Did you try to ride him yet?"

Raven shook his head with a wry smile "Saelbeth won't. And if I try, I will most certainly wait until Gildor rides Faire again. If only to help me get up on that back"

Chapter Notes:

Curutano: (S) "crafty smith"

Only _roch _means "horse" in Sindarin

Alright, I know that implying the wolf went to Bombadil and having him shadow Aragorn's travellers is just as _far out_ as bringing a Nazgul horse to Imladris, but well - _It's mine, my preciousss…_

7


	51. Chapter 51 From Winter back to Winter

**From Winter back to Winter**

Imladris, December 30th TA 3018

Elrond's POV

I rested my head in my hands for a moment. This meeting had not augured well in the first place, and the rest of the small council had not been any more productive. And now Gildor and Erestor hacked away at each other like fighting cocks. I was not the only one regularly getting into conflict with Gildor without his apparent fault.

Erestor flatly refused the idea of Raven's people allying with Rivendell "Let the valley be guarded by wolves, yes, and why not just have_ them_ carry the Ring to Mordor? Would not a wolf pack easier reach the black land than a Halfling?"

"They don't give a flying fuck for rings of power, Erestor! What they care about is that there may be land left for them to live in after darkness falls"

"And the next meal, probably. No matter if it's orcs they eat or elves!"

"Fresh orc is no better than rotting carrion" Gildor snapped "If that was what they wanted they needed not come here"

I gave up the plan to fix the proceedings today - if I wanted the Ashi'kha, I would have to present some in Imladris with facts. I just managed to keep them from each other's throats - I had more to do with preventing rows than I had time to make up my own mind on the pressing subjects. So we would not decide on the Ashi'kha arrival now, right.

"Stop this now" I interrupted them "Or move your bickering out of here until you have some reasons to give except accusations"

"Accusations!" Erestor echoed "I think I can present you with more than unfounded accusations, Elrond. But alright, I will happily move _myself_ out of here until Gildor has recovered some sense!"

I grimaced. He actually managed to bang the door of the council-room. In the following silence, we could here the water roaring far below. The Bruinen, swollen from the recent rains, proved his name to be well-given. The roar of the water mingled with the steady patter of heavy rain. Gildor got up to pace the room like a caged beast. He still wore his travelling cloak and mud-stained clothing because as soon as he and his company had arrived back, I had whisked him away for this impromptu council. I had only said that there were things he had to know and some planning to do, an unspecified explanation that did not improve his mood. I now knew that Raven himself had carried one of the company's messages, and that he was well informed of all consequences my sending on of the One Ring might entail. Another thing that had understandably set Erestor on edge. He was, I realized, at this moment in the same situation I had been when getting to know Gildor – he just could not see _how_ Gildor could do that.

It was useless to discuss the Ashi'kha now, so instead I decided to try and find out what had been nagging me since Gildor's company had left for the Towers. Still, this seemed to be turning into another full-grown argument between us that threatened to increase in temper.

Glorfindel had not been not here at all, and damn, he was not here to deal with Gildor now! I had a feeling he might go about this more delicately. So far, all I could do was keeping Gildor from leaving as well.

"Sit down, Gildor" I said, for the third time in a few minutes, trying to ignore his anger without much success. He was in no mood for compromise, and more than disgruntled with the whole thing. At least he did not have his sword with him at the moment.

"You told him, if it was your decision you would accept the Ashi'khas' help immediately, have you forgotten? You're not the one to blabber mindless things, not even after an attack"

"No" I watched him with steely eyes "If that is your idea of a council I can understand you keep yourself unavailable for Imladris business – if you rant now, I don't know what you would have done a few days ago at the great council"

"This was not my idea in the first place, Elrond" Gildor snapped "I would be up to my neck in hot water but for this. And I am glad that I was not there for the council, believe me. I can do nothing about what you decided _there_. But I am in the middle of what concerns the Ashi'kha, and I want an answer _now_. Say yea or nay, and if you say yes, give us a time. If you want us to _agree_ on something before you decide, you may just as well hand Vilya over to Sauron right now"

Gildor turned from the window and paced back "There are riders out there – black riders. Our time is running _out_"

"I know that quite well. But listen to me-"

"No" Gildor snarled "For once you listen to me. You have given me a whole damn lecture about spirits, werewolves and other superstitions now. The Ashi'kha are a reality, Elrond. There is no blood magic to turn them into wolves. You _know _that, you touched his mind!"

"What I saw, even with Vilya, was _other_. He hides behind the wolf. He can hide lies behind what never lies"

Gildor took a step towards me and gripped my shoulders. The force behind that made me look up into his angry eyes.

"You think he lies?" he demanded.

"I say it is possible for him to lie"

"Of course it is. As it is for me, as it is for you. He is a living creature, not a mindless construct"

"You know I did not mean that. What he did not want me to see he hid behind the wolf"

"_I_ know _him_" Gildor said with exaggerated care "As well as I know myself. We are not shielded to each other. If you think he does not speak true, accuse _me _of lying!"

Damn him. Couldn't he see I was not saying that?

"Gildor-"

"Do you think I'm lying?" he interrupted me.

"No"

"Do you think I have been bewitched or lost my mind?"

"No"

"Do you think I am having a good laugh at your expense?"

"No, Gildor, I-"

"Then what do you want? What do you want as proof? Do you think" Gildor added "Raven would risk his life in defending Imladris alongside us if he was fighting his own allies?"

"You never know with wolves" I snapped angrily before I could stop myself. Abruptly, Gildor turned and went to stand at the window, his back rigid.

"You're hopeless" he snapped "The whole thing is hopeless"

I sighed and got up to stand beside him. After a while Gildor, looked at me "You said that on purpose" he stated. "What are you playing at? Tell me – what.proof.do.you.need?"

"Maybe the whole war is hopeless, Gildor" I said. "If darkness falls, there will be no land left where the shadow does not rule, if a wolf-pack spies for us or not. Do you honestly think the Ashi'kha would go to war for us when they could save their skins and live as they have done before? Would they fight for the rectification of a folly they never ever had a part in? Yes you do, I know. And by now, I do so, too. It is the small things that will decide this war. But if only one of them is taken behind enemy lines, if only one message they carry is intercepted, all our designs may be revealed. Can an Ashi'kha stand against torment and mind-searching any more than one of us? Can a _wolf_ stand against it?

When the Ashi'kha come here, they will sense Vilya. Maybe they will not desire her, but they will _know_. And they will carry the knowledge with them. I am not only afraid for us, Gildor. If we lose, the three will be found. And those who know of them will be sought out. He may think the Ashi'kha very useful for his designs. Maybe he himself cannot use her, maybe he can find a way, I do not know. I do not want a proof Raven is not a werewolf. I want you to understand that there is more at risk than their pelts"

"No one will be left alone if we fail" Gildor snapped "And you sent the ring out. You took the _greatest_ risk in sending it away. If that fails, it matters not what we know or don't. If you let the Ashi'kha come, they will know, maybe, that you keep Vilya. But that the nine set out towards Mordor, they do not know. Maybe Raven can not prove that they are no risk. Maybe there is no way to prove that but to try. You fear the Ashi'kha may be hunted for what they know then. I have travelled far this year – what if my company had been taken? We have choice bits of information even now. You do nothing to prevent that"

I avoided his eyes "Yes. And I cannot forbid you, or anyone else. For years and years I have planned for this possibility, the recovery of the Ring. And now, this Ashi'kha complication turns up, and there is no time left at all for the final crucial planning. Circumstances force us into action without plan, without certainty, and blind faith in chance or luck is absolutely _not _what I prefer. It is useless to discuss this further, Gildor. If you remember, I agreed moons ago. The Ashi'kha will come. But I cannot simply _call _them here. I rule this place, which does not give me the right to decide over people's heads completely. I suppose I have to, to some degree. We can only try. And we will try it with the wolves.I just hope that we are not sent back furs with greetings from Mordor"

I paused, looking at Gildor. I got no clue and sighed. In the last years we had gradually drifted more and more apart. Gildor respected me, but since it had become clear how different our outlooks had become, he carefully kept his personal views to himself and more often than not avoided the valley, even in winter. We had never been _close_ friends, but friends at least.

"I…you make me wonder, Gildor. Worry. I have played you up hoping you would give me a hint"

"Indeed" Gildor frowned "'A hint'. Speak clearly"

"Right" I looked out of the rain-streaked window, realizing that the rain had turned to sleet. By morning, Imladris would be covered in snow. So then, winter had come finally. Abruptly I turned and reached for two glasses, busying myself in filling them. Dusk was falling rapidly and the light in the study failed. I lit the candles, built up the fire and watched the flickering shadows on the packed books. I was playing for time, and Gildor had not let me out of his sight once. For a moment, I thought I should close the topic. I was not sure if I went too far asking this, and Gildor did not take kindly to prying, let alone when he was in such a mood as now. But after what Raven had said, and what I had seen for myself I wanted to _know_. I twined the glass in my fingers another long moment before bracing myself to meet Gildor's cold gaze "Tell me this: Are you two lovers?"

Gildor stared at me without moving and carefully kept his face expressionless. Abruptly, he turned and carried his glass to an armchair in front of the fireplace to curl up there, looking into the flames.

"You can give yourself the answer, can't you?"

I sighed and moved to the other armchair "You had to give me pieces to bring the Ashi'kha here. I just put them together. Why don't you _talk _to me, Gildor? You used to, you know?"

"Yes" Gildor said quietly after a pause "I know"

Sleet hit the windows and slid down the panes to form cold, melting lumps at their base.

"What happened to change it? You were there for me when Celebrian went West. Give me a chance to repay you"

"I am fine, Elrond. You could change nothing. I just want a hot bath and a good sleep"

"I don't want to _change_ anything. I am worried, and I am curious" I admitted carefully.

Gildor smiled wearily "And both make you incredibly nosy"

"I am not _nosing_" I returned with mock indignation "You thwarted my attempt at feeling you out, so I asked straight away. I am _not nosing_" I paused. Maybe now that Gildor did not whet his claws it was safe to go on. At least he remained in his seat, even if it was probably out of weariness "You have committed yourself to Raven…very much. I never thought you would again. You were very – explicit in turning down offers for more than company, I remember. You almost killed Echduin"

"It was not an offer, it would have been rape" Gildor said flatly "And I still wish I _had_ killed him"

I frowned "He would never have done that"

"So?" Gildor was going to say more but visibly swallowed his words "How stupid can you get? And he expected me to _trust_ him in the first place?"

"I guess he thought in trying to corner you he might get you to understand he really meant his advances and was not fooling you"

Gildor only snorted.

"He had not expected your…reaction to be so – lethal. Nor Faire's"

"Second mistake. Poor man"

"He was very young, Gildor"

"And stupid"

I rubbed my eyes "Why Raven?" I asked bluntly.

"Exactly why _not _Echduin"

"Do you care to elaborate?"

"We complement each other in case of foolishness"

"Oh come on. In all the centuries I have known you, you have never been a fool"

"No, of course not" Gildor said mockingly.

"Are you still angry at what I said?"

"No, I am talking to you, as you wished"

I groaned softly "I don't know anyone more stubborn than you! Can't you just say what you think? And you blame me for nosing! Do I always have to ask tactless questions to make you talk? The last time I did that you challenged me at sword's point"

"I will do so again if this gets further off-course"

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly "So let me phrase this differently. Why a dark elf, Gildor? Why can't you find what you seek among our own kind? And please don't ask me why-does-it-bother-you-Elrond now"

"I know perfectly well what he is" Gildor growled "And what I am not" he added under his breath, staring into the flames.

"I could tell you" I said "Even if you insist on disclaiming your father's title, by your line and heritage you are Vanya"

"Half Vanya" he corrected coldly "And even if I considered myself that, this alone should tell you that 'my people' as you say are far away over bent seas"

I consciously resisted the desire to clench my hands into fists "I wonder what brought you together" I said instead "You and Raven"

"You know the story. I don't think your memory will fail you"

I smiled thinly "Indeed it does not. Gildor, I only know what I can see, and the little Raven has allowed me to see. He- he is cold and arrogant as a stone-block" I said then, recklessly. I had no right to ask this, and he no obligation to answer "Can he give you anything back _you_ offer him? There…you said he lost his soulbound partner, and that damn well shows. But I know there were things he consciously kept hidden from me, and closed places I am sure he would have fought me to the death before I got there. He is _dangerous_. And I am not talking about fangs and claws"

Gildor snorted softly "How can _you _honestly tell me _anyone _is dangerous, hm, Elrond ring-bearer? And don't _you_ lecture about 'closed places'. But I will satisfy your curiosity, if only for Raven's sake. His 'soulbound partner' as you put it was his brother, and you could have put that together from what he told you already. And it was an instinctive bond. Raven survived because his brother managed to sever part of the link before he died"

"If it was an instinctive bond he could not have survived" I objected "Maybe his brother's death, but not the shock of loosing that…part of his fea"

"Now you forget the wolf in that. He survived more than a year on his own. He tried to get himself killed, yes. But the wolf always wants to survive, and Raven is too good or mad a fighter, he never met an orc that could best him, I suppose. Things had wound down to a narrow close when I met him with Caladur's clan, and even then he still managed to hide his condition. You know I am not a great healer, but I was curious, and I knew something was wrong. So I tracked him when he tried to sneak off after that fight" Gildor paused "He _is _dangerous, he showed me that when…– You will know _fea-raika_?"

I stared at him for a moment. _Fea-raika_. The most complicated and dangerous procedure I knew. I could not even say what it was – a ritual? A healing procedure? Coercion?

"That…requires at least two people for grounding and healing" I said "You were all alone in a cave in the mountains"

"Which is why I had to do both. And I was lucky that the wolf wanted survival and Raven was not fully there. He can mind-kill, and he can do it well. That time he only managed an ill-aimed blow that I could deflect, but that is the principle of what he does with werewolves. He can separate wolf-mind and spirit without killing the wolf, but he also can wrench the connection of fea and body to kill"

I snapped my mouth shut. So despite what he said, he knew how to use that power. Maybe unconscious, definitely untrained, but he could do – _so much. I_ stored that away, and took a careful sip of wine "You're better than we ever gave you credit for"

"Probably than I ever gave myself credit for" Gildor smiled crookedly "He almost killed us both, though, mark my words. I feared he would hate me for pulling him back, but he didn't. Or maybe the wolf did not, and he usually goes along with the wolf"

"He does" I said faintly

"If you complain about closed spaces" Gildor continued quietly "you know _fea-raika _can include seals. He would not have survived without these. I set them. By now, he will be in control of them. Of course he won't let you touch them for the life of him.

But it is the fact that we are lovers that bothers you, I take it. I trust him, more than anyone else. And I can, because he trusted me first, without demanding security or repayment. _He _took the first step. And he is here. He is _wolf, _Elrond, and the valley is definitely not his favourite place. He would be spending the winter with some pack or in a cave, but he is here, and because of me. He _chooses_ this for me freely. That is more than I could ever ask of anyone, and more anyone else could give me. That is why I trust him"

If he can mind-kill... I cut the thought off. Gildor would know the risk he was and was not taking unshielding to Raven "And you are spending your time in the wild just for him?" I asked.

"No of course not" Gildor laughed briefly "Not anymore. I used to, in the beginning, sometimes. But I have used my time well, I think. I hid in a city for five-hundred years. That is a lot of time I have to catch up. So I learned from the rhevain, so I learn from him…And he never gives you I-think-you-shoulds" he added as an afterthought "Can you imagine what a relief that is?"

"And I am, yes?" I asked wryly "I suppose I am. But you changed, a lot. I have found your love for the rhevain hard to understand. This wolf-business goes much further. To me. To many here, I think. You know why Erestor said what he did"

"I know"

Nothing more. "If you have learned one thing with the rhevain it is to go your own way and damn the rest" I said darkly.

Gildor snorted "Elrond, I _see _why he hates the werewolves. I do not ask him to change that, only that he accepts that the Ashi'kha.are.not.werewolves"

"What would you say if I asked you to stop hunting Orcs?"

"That you are a madman and that you miss the little fact that the only resemblance between an Ashi'kha and a werewolf is fur and fangs"

I was silent for a moment "Well…as you said we are going opposite directions. What I am trying to keep alive is what you try to leave behind"

Gildor remained silent.

"You…still do not want to leave for the west, do you?" I asked after a while "I wanted to so badly when Celebrian went, but it never seemed to…call to you"

"What I think of as the west is only a memory" Gildor said softly "It works well here to remember, but if I go back, I will find only that nothing is as it has been – as I remember it. No, I will not go as long as I have no other choice"

"Because of that? Or because Raven would not go with you? Don't you think he could?"

"Because of both?" Gildor emptied his glass and pulled his travel-stained cloak closer about him "There is nothing left for us here. This war will have to be fought, and the outcome either way will mean our end. If we cannot change, and I don't think we can. But the Ashi'kha…they live for the sake of living – they will stay, if only to try and keep the wolves safe. Raven will not go into the west. He is too much Ashi'kha for that. Or wolf. It…would be madness if he tried, I think. At least we knew that before we…started this. But he would try, maybe. It is just that he…is afraid. Afraid that if the Shadow created the Ashi'kha They would take the wolf from him. The Valar made us pay tough prices before. I can see he does not fear this possibility for no reason. He did not even look into the stone, yet he was… terrified at the White Towers. No, Elrond, there is nothing left here for us. You know that better than I, I think. But I am not prepared to wait for that end"

"And what will you do?"

"Hell if I knew. I hope if I can wait long enough an answer may drum itself up"

"Out of the blue, hm?"

"Say, out of the black"

I frowned "You think he has some power for that?"

"Raven has no power. Neither have I. I could not stay for love of him. His love for me gives me the power to stay"

Silence fell between us once more "Do you have no…hope at all that there might be something worth to find there?" I asked finally "Even if it is not what you wish for now?"

Gildor stared into the fire for a moment "No"

"All our hope lies in the West"

"Maybe we should have another go at the first age. By now most of us seemed to have learned that"

I looked at Gildor for a moment in amazement. I had heard these same words spoken almost identically centuries ago. By a softer voice, but with almost as much cynicism in it. With determination I pushed thoughts of my foster-father and his brother, the master of spite, out of my mind. I looked at Gildor steadily, trying to see beneath the cool surface in vain. _Then the everlasting darkness shall indeed be our fate. _So they had said. Gildor had never told me what his feelings towards the Feanorians were. He had never mentioned either of the brothers, always manoeuvred around questions I asked concerning that.

"You cannot outwit the Doom nor flee it" I said quietly "Will you rather become a phantom of the marshes, a faded ghost?"

Gildor smiled thinly "I have no intention of that, no"

Again, there was an uncomfortable silence. Finally I could not bear it anymore. He had said more now than in years before, and I knew I would have to leave it at that.

"It is snowing again" I said, stupidly.

Gildor looked outside "_Khai'khanshe imaire_" He smiled at my puzzled look "That is what Raven's people call the winter. It means _bound_-_light_-_falling_. They say the light of the sun becomes frozen and falls from the sky. They say it a little better, though"

All the while, I thought, I had not seen how much really lay between us. When I asked how he could not only live with Raven but love him, how he could give up all the careful integrity he had built up for ages, I spoke only from my place. He had said something to that effect long years ago, before the Alliance was made. When he had come to offer the help of the rhevain. To me, they had been, and essentially remained, foreign. And Raven was an alien, a half-demon almost. According to the laws of the world I knew. I could not see what he did not show me – his reality, his customs. Gildor now, I realized, was far ahead of me in that. Once more. He knew Raven's language, their tales, he could share, at least to some degree, Ashi'kha world-view.

"Winter" he added slowly "Begins their count of time. From midwinter's day to midwinter's day is one year, one sun-course. I think originally it meant dark-return, not sun-return. Because they count in nights, too, not in days"

"Shouldn't they have counted from midsummer then, when the nights grow longer?" I asked, and he laughed "Don't point that out to me! I only learn the tales"

"The Rohirrim say something similar, you know? 'It is the blinking of an eye, the least space of time, and soon it turns from winter back to winter'"

Gildor smiled crookedly "They are quite a pessimistic lot, aren't they?

Gildor's POV

The black returned after nightfall. Or rather, the wolf drifted into our rooms without so much as a creaking panel, with snowflakes still in his fur and the scent of cold air clinging to him. I had given up trying to read and instead curled up in the bed to idly watch the flames in the fireplace. The wolf leant against the door to shut it and leaped onto the bed, standing over me.

'Lazy, skulking maggot' he said comfortably 'The snow is falling, and it is a wonderful winter night'

I grinned and grabbed the wolf's muzzle, pushing him over "It is ungodly, windy, wet and icy cold. You are a mad, scavenging beast who doesn't know what's good"

'I don't?' Raven asked challengingly 'I distinctly remember times you said differently'

"If you want to pursue that vein, demon hound, _change_"

Raven obeyed, and pulled a loose tunic over his head before sitting down on the bed and wrapping his arms around his knees. I nudged the book towards him "You will find that hilarious"

Raven frowned and took it up "You know I can hardly read well enough to call it pastime. Wolves?"

"Don't ask me who brought it, but it was written by a human and ended up here in the library"

"Are you going to sit there all night?" I asked after a while, watching Raven leaf through the thin volume with a half amused half disgusted expression "It is getting cold in here, you know. The brick doesn't keep the heat well after all"

Raven raised one eyebrow "Brick?"

I looked up. It took a moment until Raven's implication sank in. I had become too used to supplying the soft sounds where he invariably used hard ones, whatever language he spoke "Yes, brick. **B**rick, as in, heated stone, you dirty little mind. Maybe you should have _writing_ lessons instead of reading"

Raven laughed "You and your heated bricks. Oh sorry, **b**ricks. You have a really funny idea of what is comfortable. But I know the letters, see, just your weird speech-"

"My weird speech! That is you who's talking, sprouting fur when it gets cold"

"Yes, sadly you miss out on that" Raven grinned "That is why you are taking stones into bed"

"Well, you weren't there, you were running around in this ungodly weather. Why should I freeze if I don't have to?"

"You must have quite a store of those **b**ricks by now"

"Yes, I collect them you know? To drop them on people's heads on occasion"

Raven whistled through his teeth "Was that a threat?"

"No. So _are _you coming?"

"Yes. But I'm going to have a bath first. A _hot _bath. And if you're not too taken up with you **b**rick, come with me"

"Raven, this day was _hard_. I can think of a hundred better things than to run through this damn snow again"

I got up nevertheless and we walked through the cold corridors and down the stairs. Raven looked at me darkly "Elrond got to you again"

"He's got a way of asking one question and making you doubt everything you thought you had straight before"

Raven's dark look deepened "He asked you why we are together"

"How do you want to know that?" I demanded, half startled, half nettled.

"You people always ask why" Raven returned "It was your first question too, when we woke"

"Yea, well" I glanced at him. We passed the kitchen, and I stopped "You go on, I'll just see if there's some food left for us" Raven shrugged and trotted across the snowed-in yard and the meadow to the bathhouses.

Arndil was on servant-duty tonight, sitting in the kitchens and nursing a mug of mulled wine. I didn't like being waited on, but now I accepted his offer to take a plate up there for us gratefully. I scurried through the snow in Raven's tracks. Like the wolf, he always walked a straight line across open spaces. The bathhouse was empty except or us. Obviously no one dared the wet snowfall for a soak this evening. Raven had chosen the usual tub in the hindmost corner. He was already up to his chin in steaming water.

"You should be cooked right through" I observed, sticking a hand into the water. "Don't you bother to add cold water?"

"Why?" Raven replied with closed eyes, grinning, turning my people's _whys_ back on me. "The hot springs in the Dark Mountains are – well – hotter" He opened one eye to look at me.

"Yours are a mad people"

Raven snorted and closed his eye again, sinking a little deeper into the tub "We are a _clean_ people"

I laughed. "Oh, yea. No flea will survive scalding water"

"FLEA!" Raven hit his target with a splash of water without looking. I jumped aside hastily "You only get angry when I'm right" I teased from a safer distance.

"Be glad that's not very often"

"Point taken" I pulled a stool towards the tub and sat down, reaching for a comb "Come here" I ordered, tugging at Raven's hair "That looks like a crow's nest"

"You're so charming. Don't tell me you're looking for fleas"

"Shut up and relax"

"I would, if you didn't pull my scalp off "

"So sensitive? Since when?"

Raven squirmed "Hands off"

"What's that?" I pushed the long strands aside to find a cut across Raven's shoulders.

"Nothing"

"Doesn't look like nothing"

"Just a scratch"

"'Just' depends, hm? What did you _do_?"

Raven shrugged "Visited my brothers. We had some rank to settle before I could…join their meal"

I was silent for a moment, fighting with the comb. Elrond's questions had unsettled me far more than I wanted to admit. Raven's phrase, spoken without conceit, stuck in my mind. The wolves. My brothers. He referred to all other creatures that were not green things, as cousins. 'I never saw myself as different from what you call beast' he had said long ago.

"Don't you get enough to eat here that you must scavenge?" I asked, trying to sound neutral.

"I did not _scavenge_" Raven said indignantly "I took an opportunity that was too good to waste"

I shook my head and finished working the tangles out. Probably he sensed my own uncertainty if I meant that as a joke or an honest question and therefore passed it by with irony. Or did he? Knowing Raven, he probably meant it as he said it. He seldom referred to wolf-things with irony. Raven disappeared under the surface for a moment and then reached back to wring the water out of his hair. He tugged a towel from the rack along the wall and got out of the tub, rubbing himself dry unconcernedly.

I grinned.

"Huh?-" Raven froze with the towel across his back.

"You don't mind if somebody gets an eyeful, do you?"

Raven looked blank for a moment, glanced at the door, then realized it was teasing "_Why_ should I if that somebody is only you?"

"Only me! _Thank you_" I rose for a mock bow "Well, _only me _has certainly earned your gratitude since _only me _ordered a downright feast to be brought to our room"

Raven returned the bow with equal mockery, holding his towel like a veil and lisping "My _eternal _gratitude, my lord"

"Hah!" I pointed an accusing finger at him "Now _that_ was cruel"

"What, the eternal thing? Or the lord?" Raven pulled his leggings on and laced up his shirt, shaking his hair back "I feel like eternally hungry at the moment"

He pulled the plug from the tub with a flourish.

"Wolves!" I snorted as we left the bath house "Only food in mind"

"Ah, you could do with some, too. You wanted to take your wolf-business serious, yes, Nokashi?"

A cold gust drove snow across the meadow, taking my breath for a moment and preventing me from a reply. Raven pelted back across the wide lawn and up the stairs. Puzzled, I followed him. Arndil had not promised too much and we sat down on the bed carefully balancing the large tray on the bedcovers between us. "What did you just say?" I asked when Raven settled himself.

"Oh come on, you know enough Ashi'kha for that one"  
"Little Wolf?"

Raven shook his head slightly "Brother wolf. Little wolf would be Nok'ashi"

"And do you feel justified in calling me that? I surmise it is not an insult"

"No" Raven said slowly, looking suddenly troubled "It was not meant as one"

He meticulously hacked a rind of cheese into tiny bits with his knife, dropped it and looked up "Kil'tor, I have the right to offer you this name to take for own. You are welcome to join Wolf Clan whenever you want" he paused "My name is Kela'shin"

I took a long breath. "What…is the correct…acceptance?"

Raven shrugged "There is no right or wrong. Simply accept if you want to"

"I do. And I will come with you, gladly. If there is a chance still after – after the War"

"There will be. However it ends" Raven stared down at the tray "There must be"

A while later, Raven and the brick exchanged places. The fire had burned low, and we were both too lazy to rise and build it up again. The wood glowed red, casting shadows rather than light. The window was open a little, and a cold breeze crept into the room continuously. I would have shut it, but knowing how much Raven detested that I left it open.

"Do you _have_ it straight?" Raven asked suddenly "Us, I mean?"

I took a long moment to answer. I had avoided that topic earlier this evening, but this time he would not let me off the hook. And well right he was. You can give yourself the answer' I had said to Elrond. As if I was guilty. Did I, somewhere deep down, still feel I had to justify myself to my people? Maybe I _was_ feeling guilty. But if so, my fault did not lie with the Eldar but with the Valar. I returned a question to a question. Raven's answer, I suppose, would have been an 'Of course'. Simple, wolvishly straightforward - and utterly true. I wished I had Ashi'kha outlook on such matters.

"I do" I said finally "You and I, yes. That I have straight" I paused "If it looks otherwise to you, I can only ask your forgiveness"

"No" Raven pushed himself up to look at me "Not that. I won't. But what is it to them, what we are? Why do they care? They think you are the weird one, while it is really me"

I had to laugh "I don't think in their minds either of us is less weird"

He looked at me shrewdly "But they do pick on _you_. Maybe not because so much because we are lovers – but because _you_ are doing what they don't. Can't. Dare. I don't know, I don't care which. It is you they confront"

"They are frightened of you"

"Hah!" Raven laughed out loud.

"They are" I said "Elrond is"

Raven flopped down beside me "Fool me" he said.

"I will. But not with this"

"Because I am Ashi'kha?"

"Because you are a wolf, too. Because you can exorcise werewolf-spirits. Because you can mind-kill. Because you have more power over me than anyone ever had. More reasons?"

"I have no power over you" Raven said, startled.

"Not more than you take"

Raven was silent, thoughtful "What then got to you so much?" he asked then "What else had you straight that he shook so badly?"

I squeezed my eyes shut "Raven, I wished just right now you would stop prying"

Raven snickered softly "No. Not now. Is it about you having been gone to the Towers?"

"No" I said "Yes. No"

Raven stared at me for a moment until I looked away. I did not care if the wolf would interpret that as submission, and immediately rued it.

"He can't get to you so much just nagging about your bed-mate. You yourself are troubled. Why?"

I held my eyes shut "Because I must go into the west and I don't want to" I said abruptly. That was all I could admit. I could not face talking about fading, the assumptions, the marsh-phantoms Elrond had referred to. I heard Raven hiss softly "That is…as if I wanted to go there. It won't work"

"Ravens don't cross the sea" I said wryly "I know"

He shifted "And gulls must return to it, yes?"

"Kela'shin" I said into the uncomfortable silence "Stormcloud. Was it a pun your father intended?"

Raven smiled weakly at my attempt to change the topic "If so, it would have been mother's idea. Could be. Maybe you can ask her soon. But I…actually it means 'rising storm'. More correctly, that is. _Kela'shin_…also refers to the look of the sky before a storm in summer. And to the feel of the air…before lightning strikes" Another pause "It also implies…passing fury…something that…burns itself out, like a…storm blows itself out after some time"

"Any storm can wreak great damage. Don't seek weakness even in…in your own true name"

"Yet it is there" Raven returned "And you know it"

"I know it" I looked at him "I know. And I know myself. So do you. - A secret for a secret, dark elf. We keep each other safe"

Raven smiled wryly "Don't you ever tell me off for 'flinging your own words back into your face' again"

Chapter Notes:

Winter back to winter: This is an Old English proverb comparing life to the flight of a sparrow through a warm hall. It reads:

_ac þæt biđ an eagan bryhtm and þæt læsste fæc ac he sona of wintra on þone winter eft cymeđ_

and means:

_but that is the twinkling of an eye and the least space of time but soon it comes from winter back to winter._ (Bruce Mitchell, _An invitation to Old English and Anglo-Saxon England_, p.260)

As they are a little bit Anglo-Saxon it felt okay ascribing it to the Rohirrim-.

Stormcloud: the not-very-original-'pun' works of course only if _Hurondil's _name actually means "Storm-lover"

Arndil: (Q) king-friend

Echduin: (S) spear-river


	52. Chapter 52 Six Seasons

**Six Seasons**

"_In the time before the Nighteater there was no brightness other than the glitter in the akh sky. There was no time of cold, and no time of heat. There was only the akh sky, and the small brightnesses clinging to the sky - there was only the fur of the Great Wolf to be seen. The Green things were all silent. There was no change._

_Change came with the Nighteater. Akh'khair'lar was devoured. But Akh'khair'lar was stronger than the Nighteater, and climbed out of its belly, unharmed. Always Nighteater arose in fury and devoured Akh'khair'lar, but each time Akh'khair'lar escaped and returned. Since then, there is change. Nighteater awoke the Green things, and Akh'khair'lar tried to send them back to silence again. And with the fight going back and forth between Akh'khair'lar and Nighteater, Change made the seasons. When Nighteater is strong and keeps the sky all to itself Akh'khair'lar must hide, and only escapes from Nighteater briefly. Nighteater then tries to make all the world its own, and burns blinding bright in the sky. That is the time of the Green things, and also the time when shadows are smallest but darkest. _

_But when Nighteater has burned itself out, and grows weak, Akh'khair'lar returns ever longer, and fights Nighteater. Akh'khair'lar then keeps the sky to itself, and the blinding bright light of Nighteater is bound, and falls white from the sky. There are no shadows then, only frozen light, and the Green things hide or die. That is the time when there is the greatest change. Leaves fall from the trees like the light falls from the sky._

_The time before the falling light is when Akh'khair'lar is strongest. It keeps the sky to itself then longer than Nighteater can. When Nighteater is gone, it is like there has been no change ever. There is only the akh sky and the small brightnesses clinging to it. Then Akh'khair'lar seizes and binds Nighteater's brightness, and it falls to the earth. The Green things are hidden beneath it then. But brown leaves cover the ground even when the Green Things are alive, and also when they are dead. They are there all Nighteater's course round, from its victory to its defeat. The brown leaves that fell when Akh'khair'lar bound Nighteater's brightness are always there, through all other seasons. The time when they are all fallen from the Green Things begins the circle. It is the time we now call khai'khanshe imaire, snow and leaf-less. (bound-light falling)_

_When Nighteater fights Akh'khair'lar again, it takes back its light from the ground, and the Green things awake again. Akh'khair'lar and Nighteater are swift fighters. But Shech'khai is slower, and cannot undo what Akh'khair'lar and Nighteater do, so it must endure their fight. Shech'khai changes as the two fight, and the leaves change as the brightness of Nighteater changes. When Nighteater begins to fight Akh'khair'lar its light is thin and bright, and the Green things put out leaves small and bright. That is the time we now call khai'khanshe kelare, Thaw and First Green. (bound-light rising)_

_While Nighteater gains strength again, the Green things grow, and they speak to Wind how much they like this time. This time we now call khai'osha, Flowering and Wild Winds (bright wind)._

_Even in the time when Nighteater is strongest, Akh'khair'lar stirs in its belly. The leaves of the Green things are like the brightness of Nighteater then, swaying before Wind that tells them of Akh'khair'lar's rising. This time we now call khai'shin'akh, Brightness and Big Clouds. (bright-storm-dark)_

_After that, Akh'khair'lar fights Nighteater, and Nighteater gives way and lets it go. The Green things are afraid of the time when Akh'khair'lar will rule, and warn all those who live off them. Nighteater gives them something of its brightness before he must give all to Akh'khair'lar, who will bind it. The Green Things ask Wind to help them, and since Wind knows that never Akh'khair'lar or Nighteater alone will rule, and knows that many live off the Green ones, it obliges. So this time became called osha'sa, Leaf-turning and Berries. (blazing wind)_

_When Akh'khair'lar slowly escapes Nighteater and lives in the sky, when Nighteater's light becomes bound, the Green things hide away so Akh'khair'lar will not find them and make them silent again. For a while Nighteater's light defies Akh'khair'lar as it shines at it from the boughs of the Green ones, but the time for those living off them has ended. The Green ones hide, and they become hunted. It is the time when the Great Wolf watches his world, and his eye shines, and even Akh'khair'lar must give way before him. So this time became called koth'nakira, Hunting Time and Leaf-falling. (stalking death)_

_This is the time Ashi'kha live best, and hunt well, and the fight of Nighteater and Akh'khair'lar brings good to us. The Green ones hide, and they who lived off them now give life to those who do not live in light, live off leaves. This is the time when the Great Circle pays off for us, and gives us strength to live through the time when light falls bound from the sky and covers everything, and when Nighteater is present even when Akh'khair'lar rules"_

Chapter Notes:

The ancient Ashi'kha myths can only be retold in newer words from the time of the Nighteater. The meanings of the older words from the time of the Starlit Dark have been lost or transformed.

_Roch'ir_ – Nighteater, sun

_Akh'khair'lar_ - the Starlit Dark; _akh_ refers to the black nightsky between the stars. The pronoun 'it' refers to an entity, a creature. _Roch'ir_ and _Akh'khair'lar_ are not thought of as he or she. Ashi'kha has a general pronoun which is neutral, and uses gender-pronouns only for special reference.

_Shech'khai_ - world under the sky, the earth

Wind as an actor is bound to the world until he becomes Hawk and flies through the shadow at the edge of the world.

2


	53. Chapter 53 Only the Hawk remembers Death

**Only the Hawk remembers Death**

Imladris, January/February TA 3018

Gildor's POV

The Ashi'kha arrived in the morning. It was a cold, bleak morning towards the end of February, with a pearly sky that assured us there would be snow very soon. It was a small pack, yet Rivendell was in an uproar. As Raven had said, they had come as wolves, travelling the vast distance between their home in the dark mountains and the valley lightly and with little danger. These were the reason for unease even more than the Ashi'kha themselves. The guards had been forewarned, and Raven had been called to meet the pack. He had gone off as wolf, the only time I had seen him in a desperate hurry. He had pulled his robe over his head, shoved it at me, and set a group of elves coming from the bathhouses scattering as he tore across the yard in wolf form. I waited for them to arrive, screwed up inside. What would they be like? What would this change for Raven and me?

I went to stand at the edge of the first bridge, the last they would have to cross. The others waited in the yard, even Elrond. I was glad he left me alone. They did not take long to arrive, flanked, or rather followed, by three guards on horses. A large pack of large wolves. There were real wolves, too. Ten. They were slightly smaller and moved differently, too. I glanced around nervously. No dogs. Good. Ten wolves, eight Ashi'kha. Nine, counting Raven. Four of them were black, one grey, three brownish black. I tightened my grip on the stones of the bridge's side. Raven – to my own surprise I had no difficulty recognizing him among the other wolves – left the pack and ran across the bridge ahead of them. He reared, put his paws on my shoulder and pushed his muzzle under my chin briefly. Wolf-greeting. He dropped down and called the change. I gave him the bundle I held and he pulled the robe over his head. The pack had halted on the bridge. One of the black wolves came forward, ducked, and the Ashi'kha who faced me a moment later smiled. I was aware of the soft sounds of amazement behind me, the talk, but I could only look at him. He was shorter than me, shorter even than Raven, all muscles, sinews and tribal tattoos.

"This is Onakir, leader of the pack" Raven said "Nightchaser, in your language"

I licked my lips "My name is Gildor" I said "Be welcome to Imladris. Rivendell, in your language" I had not intended that formulation, only as I spoke realized it might sound like a snide reply. But Raven laughed, and Nightchaser did, too.

"Thank…you" he said in carefully phrased Quenya "We have been…called. We…came" he made a small gesture, encompassing the pack "We are…the first. More will come. My clan…will fight for…your people"

"Thank you" I said carefully. He had the authority to speak for his clan. I certainly did not "For my part, I am grateful that you will. Please come…with me now. My people are…not exactly used to dealing with changewolves"

Raven said something in Ashi'kha. Translating, I realized. Nightchaser nodded. He went with us, easily, unconscious it seemed of the looks he was getting. I glanced at Erestor, who kept to the back. A day after our fight in the council room I had sought him and tried to make my peace with him. I was not sure if I had managed, if he understood, but he had never spoken against the Ashi'kha coming here again. Knowing he was one of those with firsthand experience with werewolves I supposed that was the best I could expect. Maybe he could imagine now that the Ashi'kha were not the monsters they must have seemed to them.

We seldom carried weapons within the valley, but the scouts and guards usually had their knives with them, as now. But Nightchaser came with us alone, the pack waiting at the edge of the open space. Even to the most suspicious eyes he could hide no weapon – he was stark naked, after all. Inwardly, I had to grin. Let _them_ hide their blushes.

I faced Elrond "This is Onakir, shaman of Wolf Clan and leader of this pack. In our language, his name is Nightchaser. Nightchaser, this is Elrond, Lord of Imladris"

Predictably, Elrond bowed slightly "Nightchaser, you and your…pack are welcome to Imladris. Please come inside with us. Was your journey here safe?"

He had no idea what to say. I pitied him, a little. But neither had I. Wolf Clan had no greeting rituals. Or rather, they greeted each other as wolves would, as Raven had greeted me. But thatdid not seem favourable now, nor was it possible. It would not be understood, and the divisions of rank were impossible to clear. Nightchaser seemed much better informed than we. He returned the bow calmly, and replied something in Ashi'kha. Raven, standing tensed and wary beside me, translated with some difficulty. He was nervous as well "He says to thank you for your welcome, and ask a place where…where the furred ones might stay. They would not enter a...house. He says their journey here…was undetected. The furred ones they saw and that saw them, were no more troubled than ever"

A direct answer to a rather formal question. Elrond glanced at me "There is the meadow behind the kitchen gardens. There is water, shelter, and they will be left alone…"

When Raven did not immediately react, I gathered my courage and pieced the words together in Ashi'kha. Nightchaser nodded "I will show them the way" Raven said quietly. He went back to the waiting wolves, and we went inside. The shaman took this all with a calm that surprised me. He had probably never entered a house in all his life, and followed Elrond serenely across the threshold and into the small hall. Nightchaser spoke some Quenya, and amusedly asked Elrond to speak slower, so he might understand. I wished I had some of his calm as I closed the doors, wondering if Raven would return on time to translate or if I had to fumble my way through this.

By nightfall, the immediate things had been settled. The small pack of real wolves was in the deserted gardens. To hunt, Raven had said quietly, they would leave the valley. To them it was a matter of territory he said when I wondered if that was not a case of impoliteness, if not to the wolves, then to the Ashi'kha. The valley was Elrond's, then so was the prey. To hunt in foreign land set off a fight for dominance, but no wolf would keep you from resting there.

After a small exchange it was clear that the Ashi'kha would share that garden with their pack-mates. Elrond appeared more distressed than puzzled by that, but did not contradict.

"Is that alright?" he asked deeply doubtful this night as snow started to fall "We cannot leave them outdoors just like this-"

"You'll do them a great favour leaving them there, I suppose" I said "If you provide them with food, they will be fine. Remember, none of them has ever been indoors"

None of the other Ashi'kha spoke a word of elven either, and compared to Nightchaser's accent Raven was easy to understand. Tonight, inside the Hall of Fire, they were all unfurred. Raven and I had provided them with loose gowns, for politeness sake. They had had enormous fun with the garments. Now I watched them, trying not to stare as many others did. I had hoped being with Raven gave me a little headstart with these strangers, and it did, but they remained – other. Strikingly, obviously other. To have one elf around that could shape-shift was one thing, to be faced with the reality of the Ashi'kha as a whole was different. Compared to his clan mates Raven had adapted so well into the outsiders' community that he remained different, but not obviously strange.

Yet these Ashi'kha were also very much different from what I had expected from knowing Raven. They were a merry lot, with little shyness in dealing with the Rivendell elves. Of course they appeared uneasy with being at the centre of attention and they remained careful of not overstepping any bounds in such a foreign surrounding, but none of them was as quiet and withdrawn as Raven had always been. The only way they displayed the same high-strung tension I knew from Raven when he was unaccustomed to a place was in their constant awareness of the exits and the people at their back.

For the time being Raven had to translate for them, yet they had quickly decided to try and learn a least the basics of Sindarin. So most of their talk tonight consisted of inquiring the names of all possible objects in the hall, food, furniture or eating utensils. Knives and forks they all knew, but they had great fun with spoons and corkscrews, never hesitating to draw any passing elf into their discoveries and inquiries.

Nightchaser seemed to be their undisputed leader, and wherever he went willingly the others would follow without dithering. At least, without obvious dithering or discussion. I guessed that most of their communication happened on the level of half instinctive mind-speech Raven tended to use when he was wolf. A very effective method obviously, since no disagreement surfaced enough to be witnessed.

Saelbeth and Lindir acted as impromptu guides and coaches, starting to return the Ashi'kha's inquiries for Sindarin words for equivalent phrases in Ashi'kha. I had picked up enough from Raven to speak the simple code of Ashi'kha, sometimes well, sometimes crudely, and knew that most items one could find in Rivendell had no correspondence in Ashi'kha. They simply had no chairs, doors or drinking glasses.

I took a place by the fire and drew a platter with fruit towards me. This was the first time I saw Raven at least moderately relaxed in company that was not my own, joking and laughing freely. I started when someone appeared at my side and twisted to find Nightchaser standing an arm's length from me. He now had a feather ornament braided into his hair which marked him as the shaman. He smiled shyly and tilted his head to inquire in carefully phrased Quenya "May…I…sit? I…would…speak with you"

"Of course" I replied, nodding and indicating the free chairs, wondering what for the life of me the shaman could want. Raven was still with the rest of the Ashi'kha and not available for translating. Nightchaser cast a glance at the fire, the same I had seen Raven turn on some blazes, and sat down gingerly. It turned out the dark elf's absence was the reason for shaman's presence.

Nighchaser made a small gesture and said slowly "I speak bad your words" he raised his hands and held them out before him "Two minds" he said, clasping them together again "I speak good then" he cocked his head slightly "You speak – yes?"

It took me a moment to see what the shaman meant. "Oh" I murmured, unsure. Well, this was not the time to be dainty. When I nodded, Nightchaser lightly placed a hand on my arm. Like Raven he obviously needed physical contact for mind-speech with more than just images. The shaman was very well shielded and made the contact easily, immediately adopting a repose that would allow us to exchange words and images while closing deeper emotions and stray thoughts out.

I was impressed, remembering the first shock when I had touched Raven's unshielded mind, where neither of us had been able to shield without closing mind-speech off completely as well. Nightchaser sensed my amusement and chuckled. 'But I am shaman. I do this so often, I should have some experience. Raven had none that way…You were there this morning, with him. He says you are his friend, yes?'

'I was there, yes' I agreed carefully. What Nightchaser associated with the 'words' he used was many-layered and complicated, and I had no wish to say more than I needed yet.

'Ah, but you are lovers. Don't you think he would not see a friend in you then?'

For a moment I was frozen. I considered pulling out of the touch, but that was neither polite nor of any use since the shaman obviously knew much more. Before I could think of phrasing a reply or question Nightchaser continued, obviously guessing what was going on beneath my shielding since he could not read me.

'Raven told me, and I would have known anyway once I touched him' he sent blithely, as if discussing the weather. That seemed to be the way with anyone of that profession, I thought wryly. Raven had remarked on Nightchaser's often maddening way. Knowing everything, and expecting everyone else to always remember that. Elrond sometimes had that annoying habit as well.

'We are kin. And I know him well – since he was born, in fact. I had hoped either he or Niy'ashi might take my place once, but Niy'ashi chose a path outside the clan, and where he went Kela'shin followed' He smiled. 'They were closer than lovers. When Niy'ashi died…– you saved his life, yes?'

'I am not sure' I replied, baffled at the shaman's quick jumps 'He was not…happy, at first'

'Yet he is with you'

'Maybe he is with me because I am the only one he knows' I said 'I do not feel talking about his private matters when he is not here, Nightchaser'

'I am not telling anything you do not know already' Nightchaser returned 'As I said, I know him very well, and while he was with the clan, he trusted me enough to let me show him a great deal of what I am doing as a shaman'

'He said he trained as…shaman for a while'

'Yes' Nightchaser watched me with bright, dark eyes 'If he would take it, he would have the power. But he would not. And he has changed since he and Niy'ashi left the clan, more even, I guess, with Niy'ashi's death. He has always hidden his heart. But now - he has also hidden his laughter. And in that, he has changed very much'

'I supposed so. He's easy with me, but I have not seen him laugh without scorn or mockery often before'

'Will you stay with him?' Another of those prodigious jumps, accompanied by a flood of different images. Travel. Ships. How did he know that? – Of course…Hurondil.

'I …– for as long as I can. - Yes'

Nightchaser's eyes reflected the fire glow for a moment as he shifted slightly. 'You do not think he will go with you'

'No. No I think not. Neither of us knows…if he will be…_admitted_. And he…the land as I remember it there – it is not like…this here. It is…without wolves'

'It is not the Hawk's world' Nightchaser said thoughtfully 'The Ashi'kha knew nothing of the Valar. Until his father came. Hurondil took a new name and learned our tongue, but we also wished to know where he came from. So he told us. I was a very young shaman then. I learned a lot from him. And since then I have wondered. We have wondered. Where our place is. If we are elves at all. What would happen if we tried to reach the West. But we are wolves more than elves, and so we never tried. And cared little. That way is not for us. Not by ship, in any case' Nightchaser chuckled 'That was a long speech. Forgive me, it is a habit sometimes. But I thought, maybe Raven would have…mentioned trying. He is one for rash decisions, you know'

'I know' I replied ruefully, feeling amused despite the gloomy thought of the west 'I resolved to try wolf way and to _not think_'

Nightchaser laughed softly and cast a look over his shoulder. 'That is well. Now…there comes our host. I believe I should meet him?'

Indeed Elrond had just entered the hall. I nodded. 'He will not talk business tonight, though, I think'

Nightchaser rose carefully from his chair, still clasping my arm and now squeezing it lightly in farewell "Now…we will dance. It…how say you? Breaks the ice?"

I watched the shaman making his way over to the group of Ashi'kha and Elrond. A space was cleared in the Hall and Nightchaser announced their intention. Lindir went with the players to find suitable instruments and they returned quickly with drums and flutes. Someone of the minstrels had collected instruments of various people, and the Ashi'kha had chosen those that came closest to what they knew - wooden flutes and skin-covered drums were positively crude, but the Ashi'kha set up their two players unconcernedly and then came into the middle. They had fabricated some sort of paint during the day, and the small group gathered around a flat clay pot filled with a black stuff. There was a muted discussion between them, and much snickering as they poked the substance which had obviously not turned out as it should have. The dancers took off the borrowed tunics and robes so that they had freedom of movement and the artful tribal tattoos elicited some curious glances. They distributed their roles in the dances, painting different patterns according to that. I found that Raven with his tattoos on arms and shoulders was almost moderately equipped. Half of the Ashi'kha dancers sported twisting patterns over the whole body. Probably for modesty's sake the two women that had come with the group did not take part in the dance and instead were in charge of the instruments. After a while of watching the preparations I wanted to see more of what was going on and made my way through the hall and towards Raven, who had taken a seat on the floor beside the drummers.

"Gods, were have you been?" Raven breathed when I sat down beside him "I thought I had insulted you"

"My, no" I was puzzled "I did not want to get in the way. These are your people, after all. I do not know them enough to start meddling in…politics"

Raven snorted softly "And I'm the right person for politics? After all, this is not politics yet. This is just…fun, I suppose you can call it. And at least _you_ don't have to ogle so that we must fear there will be even more eyeballs lying around after tonight"

I snickered "Is that why I assume the women don't dance tonight?"

Raven managed to keep a straight face "Right"

He was prevented from adding a succulent comment when one of the dancers called out a question to him. I followed the brief exchange with some fascination. Just from hearing the sounds I would have thought two mountain cats were cursing each other.

"He wanted to know where east and west are. They can't see the sky from in here" Raven explained when he saw my blank look "He also wanted" he added with a soft growl "That I dance with them some time tonight"

In the meantime the six dancers had lined up so that they were facing each other in a circle and started moving around with the first slow drumbeats.

"Are you going to?" I glanced sideways at Raven, who had sat back on his heels, watching the dancers through narrowed eyes. They were turning with the sun, so I was spared asking what east and west had to do with this. Raven did not seem thrilled at the prospect, but nodded firmly. I turned my attention to the dance. The speed picked up and after some time of circling and shifting of speed and rhythm each of the dancers followed his own rhythm and direction.

'_Kaiara_ means what? Changing?'

Raven nodded slightly 'Change, circle, or seasons. We count six seasons. Snow-time, thaw and first green, flowering, summer, leaf-turning or berries, and hunting time or leaf-less. That is why six dancers' _We count winters, not summers. _I noticed the unconscious starting of Raven's list with winter. Ashi'kha mentality in practice. Had I been asked for the count of the seasons I suspected I would have started out with spring without second thoughts.

There were now two dancers to each of the two drums, and one dancer to each of the two flutes. The flute-dancers almost flowed through the motions while the drum-dancers held a wild hopping rhythm. With each clapping and stomping a different dancer dominated the circle for a while.

The music ended with all the dancers in the middle, and one after the other moved to his original place in the circle, flushed and out of breath. Aside from the music there was a stunned silence in the Hall. Then a great cheer went up in the Hall. Nightchaser came over and talked softly to Raven. He held the pot of dark paint in his hands. Raven stared at it for a moment, then nodded. He shook off his gown and freed his hair from the leather thong holding it back before joining the small group. One of the Ashi'kha dancers took the pot from Nightchaser and carefully traced a bird-like pattern on Raven's face and arms. The shaman was left alone in the middle of the cleared space.

"Next dance" he announced when the noise had died down and the dancers were ready "is sacred dance" He turned to Raven and held out one hand "Hawk Dance"

That probably meant little to the onlookers, but I knew what it was about. Hawk, shadow world, _shin'a'sha_. Raven paled slightly, and I sensed him steel himself, though little of his tension showed in his movements when he walked into the circle to take a position opposite of Nightchaser. I wondered if shaman-ways were as inconsiderate of personal reservations as some healers' were single-minded, and if the shaman had told Raven just which dance he wanted him to do. But no. Raven would have known from the paint pattern and also would have flatly refused the request if he had been completely unwilling.

The Hawk Dance retold the story of hawk and raven meeting after the hawk had returned from the newly discovered spirit world. As shaman, which translated as hawk-caller in Ashi'kha, Nightchaser of course take the hawk's part in this. It seemed a little ironic that the raven's part now fell to Raven. I vividly remembered his words about the raven being the living bird, the one with a dislike for sacred business.

There were no drums at first, only flutes, and Nightchaser danced alone while Raven crouched on the ground. Judging by the sudden stunned silence no one had expected so much grace from the Ashi'kha. The shaman's motion mimicked a circling and diving hawk so clearly that I could almost see the shadow of that bird following him.There were two abrupt changes in the shaman's dance, subtle shifts in speed and motion which were nevertheless perceptible to the audience. I could not say what exactly Nightchaser did to make these visible. _The hawk crossed out of this world into the spirit world, breaking through the shadow at the edge of the world_, so the tale said. The flutes stopped and Nightchaser ended up on his knees in front of the crouching dark elf, his arms spread to recall a posing hawk. The flowing, almost haunting melody of the flutes shifted into a swift, rising and falling motion and the drummers set in. Both Nightchaser and Raven leaped up and began a swift dance around each other. _The raven teased the hawk_ _as he returned from the spirit world._

In the seasons-dance the performers had only circled each other or mirrored the other's motions without touching, but now the dancers actually moved together. They linked arms or hands, whirled around, dropped to the ground and leaped over the other. I had never, _never _seen Raven dance before, and found myself trying hard to keep my jaw from dropping. I had thought my seeing sword-fighting as a dance was fancy – now I knew where he had got his weird, dirty fighting from: Ashi'kha dancing!

The rhythm of flutes and drums separated and so did the dancers. _Hawk and raven went their own way when they reached the mountains. The raven did not understand what the hawk said about the spirit world. _In single dancing the difference in their motion was as striking as the difference between a hawk gliding on motionless wings and a raven rising and falling with a gale. Then Raven and Nightchaser moved towards each other once more and Raven dropped to the floor into a hunched position, his hair falling forward to hide his face. The posture recalled a raven ducking into the storm and flustering its feathers. Nightchaser knelt down behind him and held his arms slightly spread above him. The drums stopped, but the flutes continued while the dancers were absolutely still for a long moment.

I expected the dance to end, but then one of the women stood up and began to chant. Her lines were taken up by the Ashi'kha who had previously helped Raven with the paint, creating a strange echo. All eyes flew towards the singers for a moment. Chanted Ashi'kha was _indescribable. _The sound made my skin prickle. The dance continued, now only following the flute and the chanting. Nightchaser leaned forward and lowered his arms until they lay on Raven's, then followed Raven's motion as he crossed his arms before his chest so they almost embraced. They both got to their feet without breaking the physical contact. _The hawk leads the osh'ar of the dead into the next world. _The pair stood motionless for a moment, and Nightchaser seemed to be speaking to Raven, whispering into his ear. He closed his hands on Raven's wrists and slowly spread his arms. I could see the muscles in Raven's arms stand out, but he did not fight the shaman's pull. Someone entered the Hall, opening and closing the great doors, and the strong stream of air made the torches flicker. Shadows raced across the dancers. I flinched and looked up. For a second, the trick of light and shadow had given the impression of black wings fluttering on the ground, spreading and rising up to the roof as the torches burned calmly once more. Instinctively I glanced around to see if anyone else had noticed something. Glorfindel was across the space nearly opposite me. I caught his eyes over the crowd and received a small nod back. There was no time to wonder. Nightchaser continued to lead through the slow, flowing motions that followed. When music and chanting ceased, the last echoed line dying away in a hiss, the dancers ended up on the floor once more, kneeling close behind each other with their arms spread wide and their hands joined. Nightchaser bowed his head, resting his cheek against Raven's, who held his eyes closed.

There was along moment of silence before everyone realized the dance had ended, and the ban was broken. Clapping and cheering followed, and the Ashi'kha dancers returned into the clear space. One of them dragged Lindir and Saelbeth with him and there was a short discussion before Lindir shouted for volunteers to join a festival dance.

Raven extricated himself from the dancers and slipped out of the circle 'Just a moment' he told me and was gone. Lindir actually found seven volunteers to pair off with the dancers and the Ashi'kha started out to teach them the basic motions of the dance. That worked quite well as it was a dance intended for partners and each Rivendell-elf was paired up with one Ashi'kha who could take the lead. Raven did not return after 'a moment'.

Fine, and where was he? Probably out on the terrace. That was Raven - when in trouble, go out.

I followed the wall under the gallery to the terrace-doors. I pushed them shut behind him without entering the terrace. Raven stood at the parapet, grasping the stone slabs so tightly his knuckles were white.

"Raven?"

No reaction. I leaned against the wall and waited. Raven sighed and turned around. He was still out of breath. I glanced at him "I…didn't know you…could dance that good"

Raven gave a short laugh "Neither did I"

Far below, the Bruinen rushed. The night was wintry cold and full of stars. A slight wind stirred our hair, and the silence seemed welcome after the music in the hall. Raven seemed to hover somewhere between anger and sadness, unable to decide for either. The dark paint made him look pale and sharp. I had taken the pattern for a bird-mask, but now I saw that it recalled a wolf's face as much as a bird's. A combination of the two traditional outlines. He did not pull away when I closed the remaining distance between us to embrace him, unheeding of the paint. He only pressed nearer to me, shivering.

"So that was the Hawk Dance" I said softly. I pulled my cape forward to wrap it around Raven as well.

"It is a sacred song" he said quietly "It is never…sung without truly invoking the Hawk spirit. It is never sung when there is no one to…to be…escorted somewhere by…that spirit. The only song we have that calls to a power. _Vach'khan_, you know…"

I rested my cheek against his for a moment, not knowing what to say. If that dance was never done without actually invoking the Hawk to escort a fёa…at least that dance they had not done simply to 'break the ice' as Nightchaser had said. But Raven knew of the Valar – he knew the other way, and therefore the Hawk could never give him the security it was supposed to do.

"And…what do you…feel now?"

"I don't know" Raven said softly "I really have no idea. It was…right to do it. So my people's part…my own part…is finished…I didn't know it would be this hard. But if the…Ashi'kha part holds true, he is…in the right world now, and maybe Nightchaser can…can walk shina'a'sha one day and tell me –'

I looked past Raven's head into the night. It was no use to ask this of the wolf. But of Raven…- "And what…will you do then?"

"I don't know" Raven seemed very well aware the question carried further into the future then what it sounded like at first "It…depends, I suppose. On…"

"O what?"

Raven squeezed his eyes shut "When you sail…" he said finally "and Nightchaser can assure that the hawk flies…why should I stay?...But it is not fair to say so"

"If you had known for sure back then that…you would be taken into the Hawk's world – you would not have…waited a moment, then?"

"I have no reason to…leave as long as you are here"

Raven did not stop shivering "You are cold" I said "We should go back inside"

Raven shook his head "I don't want to go inside yet. Just…just stay with me, will you?"

"I…there is one thing I just realized" Raven whispered suddenly "Niy'ashi means Laughing Wolf…

_The sand keeps my tracks_

_As long as the waves sleep –_

_Yet bright is the Hawk's flight_

_And the wolf's laughter_"

That was the verse that went with him…his name. I see now…"

I bit my lip "Maybe sometimes…maybe in a way your brother was right…saying the Valar aren't fair. But I keep thinking the whole world-circle has a wicked sense of irony"

Raven was very still in my arms. There was a catch in his breath, but he did not look at me or speak at all. After years with him I knew the worst I could do was trying to make him talk. Words of comfort were always empty. So we stood in silence for a long while, wrapped in my cape. Muted snatches of music and laughter sounded from the hall and mingled with the steady roar of water.

"They…what did they sing?" I asked then, hoping to shake Raven out of his paralysis "I mean, the little I know of Ashi'kha was no use in making sense of the words. I couldn't even tell where one ended and the other began"

Raven gave a half-hearted laugh "Should be. They used the Ritual Code"

"Is it a…secret song?"

"No. No it's not secret. Coming to think of it, we would be fools to keep of our tales secret anymore. The more who know, the better the chance someone remembers"

A piece of wisdom I wished the Eldar had taken to heart a bit earlier "Chances are you get misunderstood rather than remembered" I said quietly.

"Yes. Maybe it is better to be forgotten wholly then. I don't know"

Raven fell silent again. When he spoke, I had to lean even closer to hear him "Much of it is lost if I…have to translate into words only, but anyway. This is the Hawk Song as they just sang it:

_black-winged passes_

_winter's night_

_bright blazing_

_into winter_

_once more_

_bright cold, blinding_

_they went_

_and now it is gone _

_shelter high and dark_

_forbids _

_all paths _

_disappears_

_cold-bright_

_it sleeps burning _

_they went_

_follow, hunting the dark_

_out in wide-plain_

_black-winged passes_

_night forever _

_into day_

You must remember" Raven added softly "that for us dawn is the time of death, and the starlit dark passed with the rising of the sun. The word for hawk also means day, and the…spirit world was discovered only because the sunrise startled him into flight - but still he…flies for the dead. So this is one meaning. You'll find hardly any song in Ashi'kha that does not have at least two levels of meaning. Hope and despair always go together in the songs. We…even have only one word for them, and just the connected images tell you which side it refers to"

"If one word means both day and night, or hope and despair, no wonder you cannot figure out the old songs anymore" I said with wry smile.

"No" Raven agreed quietly "They were made to reflect the moment, and what they meant that instant is invariably lost over centuries – within days even, maybe"

It was not a comforting idea "But then nothing is left. Not even words"

"No. Especially not words" Raven looked at me, then straightened abruptly "Only the moment. That is what the wolves teach us everyday. Come" he turned around and took my hands "Let's go back inside. They will be doing their festival dance still, and I – I don't want to miss the chance to see _you _dance"

"Me?" I asked, horrified "I can't dance Ashi'kha way. Absolutely not"

Raven smiled "I have seen you dance before. You can do it. And I did not say I would only watch" He pulled the doors open and nudged me inside "I want to dance _with_ you"

We did dance that evening. And more Ashi'kha way than I had expected. While we waited for the previous dance to end, Raven suddenly held out the pot of paint.

"Kil'tor" he hissed softly "Dance as pack-mate tonight"

I blinked, eying the paint suspiciously "Are you sure that is wise?"

"For my people, yes. For yours, I don't know"

"Alright" I said after a moment "I will"

Raven patted the ground and I sat down with him, turning my back to the watching audience. Raven gestured for me to take off my shirt.

"You care to explain what you're doing?" I whispered as he set to drawing a large design on my back. The paint felt cold, but I wished his touch would not have the effect on me it most definitely had.

"_Khai'toh_" he said softly, moving around me to trace a series of two symbols on my arms which were connected and inverted to form a complex-looking pattern.

"The wolf" He finished the triangular design I was very familiar with by now, and grinned briefly when he noticed my reaction.

"Pack-mate. Hunter" Raven added a stripe across my eyes, which ended in two claw-like swipes on each cheek, and nodded in satisfaction. I had not braided my hair tonight, and he reached out to touch the long strands briefly "Kil'tor. Raven-dance. You know that one"

I nodded. He had shown me one dance, and one only, in all the years we had been together, the Raven Dance. It had, as far as he had informed me, no further ritual meaning than to evoke the raven-nature as opposed to the Hawk. It was a wild, whirling and hopping dance, which repeated a number of set movements in free combination. If it was danced with a partner or in several pairs at once, it became a sort of sword-dance without weapons. Still I was relieved when Nightchaser and one other got up also, and there were four people dancing instead of Raven and I alone. I felt a curious mixture of temerity and defiance, doing this in front of the whole valley. But after a moment, there were only Raven and the music to concentrate on, and reckless elation. Maybe as the hawk-shadow had fluttered across the Great Hall tonight so the raven-spirit asserted itself as well.

When the feast ended and the Ashi'kha retreated to their shelters near the gardens I followed Raven outside as well, to the place where the wolves stayed. Most of the pack was asleep when we arrived, but a few came to sniff at us. There was a wider variety of wolves than I had expected. Mountain-wolves mostly, but also slightly smaller forest-wolves and a few slender plains-wolves. Wolf Clan had gathered all lone wolves that would follow them, it seemed. We sat for a while and watched them, scratching the fur of those who came to us and enjoyed a rub.

"You know" I said after while "You effectively live in my world, but it is you who can give all these things – names, for example"

"You mean, Kil'tor or Nok'ashi…"

"…Kela'shin"

Raven glanced at me "Not everyone is…strong enough to carry their own name openly"

"Or foolish enough" I smiled "So you said in the beginning"

"So I did…And I also asked you then if Kil'tor _is_ your name"

I hesitated "I did not understand you then. I still do not"

"But you are…still far from the place you belong, aren't you?"

"Raven…I am as close to anywhere I belong when I am…here"

"In Imladris?"

"No" I looked at him "With you"

He sat beside one of the clan's wolves, a huge beast whose head was higher than his at the moment. I knelt down beside him but refrained from touching.

"I do not know who I am any longer" I admitted softly "Maybe I never did. You are the one for names. Maybe you can tell me"

Raven blinked "Come…come here" he pulled me closer, wrapping his arms around me "My people do not believe in chance, or coincidence, or fate. If you are Gildor, you are also Kil'tor. And you are more Kil'tor than Nokashi, because Kil'tor you have always been"

He was silent for a long moment "I…there is an Ashi'kha song…

_Oshara, osha, shin, _

_toh vach khan'un; _

_akh'nosh, akh'ashi,_

_n'sakeshi har_.

Do you…know what that means?"

"No" I said quietly "You spoke the ritual code"

I could feel him nod "In Quenya, it means something like this:

_Breeze, wind, storm,_

_The power is mine._

_Black-winged, black-furred,_

_I am alive. _

You…see that meaning?"

"…You. It is…about you"

Raven gave another small nod "It is me. My song. Before each name, there is a song. Like Niy'ashi's. That…is the way we give names…I offered you the name of Nokashi…But as I said, you are Kil'tor, too…There is another song…:

_Toh ashu _

_kehansh n'toh,_

_thu'ka noshr'ir hinyan kagar, _

_i toh han _

_n'kopar_.

In Quenya it means:

_A wolf_

_I thought myself, _

_but the owls hoot, _

_and the night I fear_…

I said once that I am…_Khaniru'a'rel_, keeper of the songs. I still am. I keep the old songs, but I also have the…right to make new ones. I give this to you. It is yours, both for Kil'tor and Nokashi"

I was very still for a long while, listening to Raven's breathing and the soft sounds of the wolves in the night.

"Once more, I can give you nothing in return" I said finally, but Raven interrupted me "You are here _now_. With me, with the wolves. Is that nothing?"

"You are right, maybe" I said after a while "That is everything. I should listen to my own words"

I did not care that we were in the old gardens, surrounded by wolves. With them here, no one else would dare to approach. After a while I turned a little in Raven's arms, returning his embrace for a moment before gently stroking his face and shoulders. I traced the dark strip on his cheeks "Pack-mate"

"Yes" He kissed me, but then let me bear him down on the grass and shift my touch further down. When I fought with the knot of his loincloth he laughed and twisted as well to tug my belt open "So many layers, and a simple knot stops you"

"Not…for long" I promised softly. It was fascinating just what great obstacles leggings and boots could prove. We wriggled around for a while, then one of the wolves decided to join Raven's tugging and dug his teeth into my remaining boot, pulling it off.

"Go away, beast" I gasped, pushing at him "Raven, I would prefer not to share this with your other pack-mates"

Raven grinned, panting a little as he rolled me over on my back and shifted to straddle my thighs "Ignore them"

"It is hard to concentrate on other things when the grass if freezing and wolves gnaw at my heels" I managed.

Raven laughed softly "Be glad…it is…your heels. But if the grass disturbs you…we can just as well…exchange places"

Chapter Notes:

The line "where only the hawk remembers death" is of course shamelessly taken from the Solamnic prayer to Paladine. You can find it in full in _Dragons of Winter Night_ by Margaret Weis&Tracy Hickman. The short version runs:

_Return this man to Huma's breast_

_Beyond the wild impartial skies;_

_Grant to him a warrior's rest_

_And set the last spark of his eyes_

_Free from the smothering clouds of wars_

_Upon the torches of the stars._

_Let the last surge of his breath_

_Take refuge in the cradling air_

_Above the dreams of ravens where_

_Only the hawk remembers death._

_Then let his shade to Huma rise_

_Beyond the wild, impartial skies. _

I took a fancy to it long before starting on _RDCTS_, and it finally provided a sort of key-line for my Ashi'kha people's belief.

Niy'ashi's song is based on a Choctaw warrior's death song of which I only have the German translation:

"Wenn ich vorübergehe

bewahrt die Prärie meine Spuren

solange

wie der Wind schläft"

The one Raven gives to Gildor _is _a Lakota dream-song (given in Barry Lopez, _Of Wolves and Men_):

"A wolf

I considered myself

But the owls are hooting

And the night

I fear"

14


	54. Chapter 54 Lorien

**Lorien**

Lorien, March 3019

Elrond's POV

The yard of Imladris was filled. With elves, but mostly with wolves. In effect, though the wolves had been here for several days, there were two rings with considerable distance between them, one outer of watching elves, one inner of wolves. I, too, watched them get ready. The changewolves were far larger than the normal wolves the Ashi'kha had brought. As I had observed in Raven, their actual mass seemed to be the same, but the appearance of greater stature was in that the changewolves were tall and slender, not massive. They settled and re-settled their pack's order as the group going off to Lorien formed. Gildor's earlier assumption that they would probably go as a mixed pack proved true. That meant the Ashi'kha went furred and like the wolves acted according to pack-law. Some, like Nightchaser, held a leading position this way or that. Others, like Raven, fought with teeth and claws for their place. But Nightchaser would not go with the pack to Lorien – he would stay here, with his own pack. It had astonished both me and Gildor that Raven had accepted the shaman's charge to lead the Lorien-bound wolves. But he had, though I could see him struggling with the requirements that position had placed on him. Gildor, nominally Captain of this four-footed troop, was getting Faire ready, checking straps and bags. He had kept his armour in fine repair over the years, the only instances I saw proof of his skill in metal-working. As we had kept the shards of Narsil sharp and unrusted for centuries, he had kept his armour – and refined it. I could remember him clearly as we had fought outside Mordor, and then in the shadow of Barad-dur. There had been neither arms nor badge on the dark silver plates then. Now, as he turned his back to me to retie the sword-harness on Faire's saddle, I saw the pattern on his back-plate. It was what he had used as banner back then, and whenever I had later managed to send him somewhere as captain of his own force: the bird-skull, the rhevain symbol of war and challenge, this time not combined with the Vanyarin star but underlain with the form. I had not _seen_ him wear his armour in a long while, I realized, though he must have whenever he went off with Raven. The design did not appear newly engraved.

With a sigh, I carefully made my way through the wolves in the yard. Most had curled up by now, waiting, a few stood, staring into the forest with their ears pricked. The changewolves were gathered in another corner. Some were black, and I looked for one with grey eyes "Raven?"

He left the group and came forward slowly 'I am'

"I am not sure what I am to say" I admitted "Your people went a long way through dangerous lands to come here, away from their own homeland. And now you go to defend another elven realm which you have never even seen before…This war is nothing we can meet. We must wait till it marches on our lands. I am not sure for which course I hope. All hopes may be vain, and all words seem wrong"

Raven hesitated 'The wolf knows little of hope. And my people do not depend on words. Say nothing, and I will find it neither strange nor evil'

I nodded slowly, and so we parted. I went over to Gildor, knowing that at least between us, there were words lacking. Rivendell was easier defended than Lorien; yet he went to the woodland. I knew there was at least one solid reason why he should – he knew the wolves, he could comparatively easily communicate with both Ashi'kha and wolves, and he knew Galadriel and Celeborn. To some degree, though not well. Would I rather he had stayed here? As I had said to Raven, I was not sure for what I hoped, what I wanted.

"So you lead a different troop now than you did in the Alliance" I said when I reached him and we looked at each other uncertainly "Though both were called rhevain"

Gildor laughed "That is so. Though I am not sure as what I am to regard them, foot-soldiers or cavalry. The latter I have experience with. Well, at least they are four-footed"

I nodded "That seems to end up with you ever, the four-footed ones. Even when they are Nazgul horses"

"Raven cares for that beast" Gildor pointed out "But yes. Even Orome said that, about the four-foots"

"Whatever happens there, I know you will lead them well" I said finally.

"Don't attempt to flatter me" he said dryly "And remind the shaman of this – fur is no armour against blows or arrows as it may be against hooves. They tend to forget that when it comes to blows"

"I will" I stared at the small bird-skull engraved on his breast-plate "Beyond the valley, I see nothing. Be careful, my friend"

"Elrond" he said softly "I do not intend to throw away this life I have for Timeless Halls"

Glorfindel joined us "So, white rider. Ready to lead the wild hunt?"

Gildor smiled wryly "With the exception that I am not dead yet, yes"

"Wild hunt?" I asked blankly, and they both laughed.

"It is a human belief" Glorfindel said "The old gods come riding out at night with quite an interesting following, and you will not want to get in the way. I take it it consists of people who, er…well, are dead and still hang around. I think Raven enjoyed the ambiguity nonetheless"

Gildor embraced us briefly and mounted. The wolves bound for Lorien followed silently as he turned Faire around and made for the bridge. I bit my lip. Wild hunt indeed.

Third Age 3019 March 11th

Raven's POV

Early this morning we had got our first glimpse of Lorien's golden leaves. The patch of brightness sat in the dark lands far below at considerable distance from the mountains. Now we had crested the pass and were descending once more. As dusk fell we rested in a wide hollow that an avalanche had carved into the rock. Now grass grew here. It was bitter cold, though no longer snowing. A few bushes and stunted trees clung to the rock here and provided some shelter. Twenty wolves lay scattered over the place, all of them in the scarce cover of the bushes or rocks.

I sat on top of a rock, a little above the pack. We were invariably drawing closer to Lorien and so towards the fight and new encounters with more eyes - towards another ring. Though I could not see the lower lands from here as the lip of the hollow cut them off from sight I could almost _feel _the closeness of the ring, the way it warped the natural flow. Which, of course, was nonsense

Still I was on edge, jumpy and short-tempered. As agreed-upon lead-wolf some amount of aggression was certainly helpful, but I found the situation becoming unbearable, with no hope of release. These were my own people, Ashi'kha, yet they had put me in a position I did not belong in. I was not a leader. The one time I had taken the lead ended in disaster. Niy'ashi paid for it with his life, and I with half my life. And the one time I fought for the lead was for the right to be Joy's mate for a year, for the sake of doing it wholly wolf-way. And Nightchaser, who was far better suited for this, was with the remainder of the pack, back at Rivendell. And K'ashi was not here, either. he had stayed with the remainder of the clan in our home east.

I jumped down from my high place and padded through the thicket at one end of the hollow. From a narrow path I emerged on an outcrop of rock which, facing out over the lands below. A sharp cold wind blew around the mountain here. It whipped Gildor's thick fur cloak around as he stood staring into the falling darkness. He had confined his long hair into a single braid which came down to his waist. To the wolf, scent was the main factor, and he did not see colour as brightly as unfurred, but my memory supplied it. I hesitated. Moments like this jarred the calmness of the wolf, made me aware of being furred and unfurred at once. The wolf saw Gildor as pack-leader in the first place, unfurred saw him as lover. When I was wolf, it always gave me a pause thinking of him like that. Wolves do not choose partners of the same sex. It simply never entered their minds. And the wolf cut me off from him. No matter that he accepted me wholly as I was, when I was wolf I was not Raven. As wolf, I was less Raven than I was wolf when I was unfurred. It was confusing, and the wolf was not given to pondering.

'Are you planning on jumping?' I asked.

Gildor whirled, looking at me with a weird expression. Had I been unfurred, I would have bit my lip in anger. So few pitfalls between us, but I faithfully managed to find what was there.

'I am sorry' I said quietly 'I did not think at all'

He shook his head, passing the moment over "Gods, another wolf. Can't you unfur just for a change, Raven? And no pun intended. All I see, hear and smell are wolves the last days!"

I wandered over to him and narrowed my eyes against the sharp wind as I looked down. From the edge here, the yellowish-golden trees of Lorien were visible far below 'If you have some room in that cloak of yours I will consider it'

The moment I got through the change the bitter cold hit me, and my senses narrowed down to unfurred's level of perception. I had been wolf for several days now, and for a moment it felt like going deaf while at the same time an icy sheet of water cascaded over me, taking my breath.

"Well?" I asked when I could breathe enough to speak "Do you want me to freeze my best parts off?"

Gildor laughed "Now I won't risk that. I think I will offer you sanctuary after all"

"Didn't you just complain of too many wolves?" I tucked the folds of Gildor's cloak tighter around me "Now you have the chance of someone's most charming and desirable non-wolf company and keep bickering"

"I may turn my thoughts to something quite different otherwise, so you will have to put up with bickering" Gildor said sourly.

"Something else meaning, say, our next move tomorrow which will bring us down to the edge of the woodland?" I asked innocently.

"No. But for the purpose of keeping this decent, yes, something in that direction"

"Well, chances are bad for anything else" I said dryly, knocking on his armour "The war would be over before I had peeled you out of that shell"

He gave a small laugh but said nothing. He was strange since that incident with Elrond, and I did not know why. There were odd moments where I knew he would have added a snide remark but remained silent now. The wolf assured me it was not some grievance he had with something I had done, but neither could I find a reason or a comfort for it.

"That was a strange thing to say, that night to the Halfling" I said softly after a while. Gildor gave me a short glance "I said a lot, and maybe too much. What do you mean?"

I hesitated "Your not being concerned with hobbits or other creatures so much. If there is one who is concerned with other creatures it is you. You even know that hobbit's what is it…uncle. And here I am…I am just a wolf"

Gildor sighed "I spoke in anger, Raven. I have no power to do as much as I would want in this. My people would continue to hide had not the One been found. Only that pushes them back into the world. In a way, we do what these hobbits do – we fence ourselves in. But I…saw no sense saying to Frodo I would rather be fanged and furred than singing hymns to Elbereth. He asked for help and courage, and I could give none"

"Well, you sent messages" I pointed out "What else could you have done?"

"I sent _you_. Into the terror of the nazgul. What else could I have done indeed?"

"You need not become sarcastic" I said gently "And you could not have gone yourself. The Halflings reached the valley, and the one you spoke with lives. And if you had not gone to the towers this year, you would not have met the Halfling and I would not have been there either to run errands. And it was I who failed. The wraiths got them at Weathertop"

"You did more than you were supposed to do"

"Then why does this grate on _you_ so much?"

Gildor shook his head "Let it pass, Raven"

I complied with a sigh. I did not have the understanding of this war as he had. For me, this was the end of Onakir's premonitions, and a final fight against whatever enemies we had had in the years before. It was not, as it was for Gildor, the culmination of a series of wars, battles and sieges that had dragged on through the ages since _Khai'tohr_ had returned from the west. I knew only that whatever end this would come to, he would lose his hold here, and I would lose him. So I went to Lorien to fight orcs. They had killed my brother, they had killed Gildor's first partner, and they threatened both wild wolves and my clan's territory. All else wrought up with this, rings of power, I put out of my mind.

I wanted no understanding of history, I only wanted Gildor. Which solved none of our problems, neither mine nor his.

Third Age, March 16th

Gildor's POV

After the first attack on the woodland there was a lull. Small groups passed by, some strayed into the trees of the border or into the marches, and those unfortunate enough to come too close were circled by the wolves and ambushed. Some groups the wolves and Ashi'kha alone disposed of, for others they enlisted the help of archers. We had expected the black stones here, but never one was found. When the wolves tracked orcs, the carcasses were searched, but none had such a device. The wolves also acted as far-scouts, which proved a relief to the regular scouts, and they brought news about the orcs' movement around Lorien, in the foothills and often directly from their camps. Which was something the best Silvan scout would not have managed without considerable risk.

The Lorien elves built traps in the outer forest. They carefully concealed them with twig-work, and Galadriel added a few touches of her own. She had obviously taken her cue from the stones, and the traps could not be smelled out. We showed the places in question to the Ashi'kha, who in turn carefully shared that knowledge with the wolves. It was nasty business picking out the odd orc that had sprung the traps, but more demanding to reset the traps. After my first go at that I left it to the Silvans, who after all had invented the devices

The second attack was launched at a greater scale than the first. We kept the real wolves inside the borders because the orcs had formed tight ranks and were well armed. The first attackers had been lightly armoured, and the wolves had not been hindered much by that. Now, the orcs wore heavy plate-armour, and most of them carried cross-bows. We had to be extremely careful not to make targets out of ourselves. Silvan armour would not hold against cross-bow bolts from the short distance that was usually involved when bow-shooting in dense forest. Some Ashi'kha left their wolf-shape and joined the battle with bows and spears. Though the weapons were unfamiliar to them, they remained unseen so perfectly that even they killed their share of enemies.

It was early morning when the attack was called off after a night of tough fighting. The sun rose bright and with a thin cold light. I collected scouts that were willing to go out together with the wolves and several groups went off to hunt out remaining orcs. Together with the black I combed the part of forest we had been assigned. I was not pleased with his stubbornness of remaining furred, but decided to make the best of it. After all, the wolf's sense of smell was far better than an orc's. He pointed out two which I shot before they had become aware of us. The third orc we found was keener or more wood-crafty. He surged out of his thicket and charged. The wolf stood in his way and twisted back, avoiding the notched scimitar narrowly. I shot two arrows in quick succession but one glanced off the orc's armour and another stuck harmlessly in the leather plates. I dropped my bow and attacked with my sword, roaring. For two, this was an easy kill, and the black was mean. He used the diversion I provided to sink his teeth into the naked skin of the orc's thigh and pushed his prey to the ground. I nearly stumbled over him, and with a quick swing cut his play short before he could shift his hold to the struggling orc's throat.

"Sometimes you are incredibly wicked" I shoved the wolf away and retrieved my bow. The black shook his fur without remorse and replied nothing.

We had almost completed our round and were heading for the meeting place when wolves started to howl. I glanced at the black to check if I interpreted the howl rightly, and we both turned and made into the direction at a run. I almost bumped into one of the Lorien guards who came hastening back towards us. He was out of breath and had fresh orc blood on his armour.

"Ivornen!"

"Thank the Valar" he panted "We were ambushed by our trap tree and two orcs had hidden out to await us, I assume. They came at us with axes and shields. The Ashi'kha, Mala'shech, he-"

I swore heartily as we ran back to the place. The trap had been sprung and the orc carcass still dangled in the torn straps. The two fresh corpses lay beside the trap tree. Rhiwalagos crouched beside the body of an Ashi'kha, ringed by three wolves which kept a respectful distance from the Lorien elves. I knelt beside him with the black by my side. I needed not be a healer to know I could do nothing anymore. I sensed Raven closing his shields so that only the wolf awareness remained for me to detect.

"I am not a healer" Rhiwalagos said desperately "Had I been maybe-"

"No" I said "You couldn't have done anything either, not against semi-beheading"

I took Rhiwalagos aside and stood by the trap with the two guards. The black remained standing beside Mala'shech's's body for a moment, his head lowered so that his muzzle almost touched the other's face. Then he raised his head and howled. After a moment the other wolves joined him and were answered from around the woodland.

The guards watched them in awe "What are they doing?" Ivornen asked uncomfortably as the wolves in the clearing fell silent again.

"Calling the others. As well. I do not understand all they say. Stay!" I added when he made to walk forward.

"We cannot leave him there" Rhiwalagos objected.

"They are waiting. This is their business. Leave us to it if you stay, or go finish your patrol" I spoke sharper than I had intended, and the guard subsided in surprise.

The black came over to us 'Lai'ashi is coming. They were good friends. The borders are not left unguarded' Raven glanced at me 'The wolves will take Lai'ashi's and Saka'nor's places for a while'

It did not take long and more wolves arrived.

"Mala'shech came bursting in here a moment after the orcs had us in a fight" Ivornen said "He…you see they were armoured, he could do little as a wolf, I think. That is why he changed and grabbed one of the orc-scimitars. Rhiwalagos and me were both surprised, and his arrival saved us from worse" He cast a helpless glance from me to the wolf and back.

"He was a spear-fighter" I said "Not with a sword"

There was a slight commotion behind us, and the wolves began dragging Mala'schech's body into the trees.

"Damn them!" Rhiwalagos raised his bow angrily.

'No' the black reared up at the same instant and wrapped his forelegs around the guard's waist, pulling down his bow in the process and driving him backward. Startled, Rhiwalagos stumbled and Raven leaped aside.

"Never.shoot.at.these.wolves" I pulled Rhiwalagos to his feet.

"They are going to eat him" he shouted "How can you tolerate that? They-"

"They are here to guard your border, not for you to understand all their ways" I interrupted.

"Come" Ivornen said tightly "We should report, and see that we do not make this mistake again" He turned to the wolf "Mala'shech saved our lives. I do not know what our people have as mourning ritual but they can remember that"

The wolf dropped his eyes in acknowledgement, then turned and vanished into the thicket. I followed him a few moments later. He stood by a tree and stared away into the forest.

'Where _are _the wolves taking him?' I asked suspiciously 'I fear Rhiwalagos was not that far from the truth when he said his piece'

'He was exactly correct' Raven turned and looked at me 'Lai'ashi and Saka'nor will keep death watch today. And then they will call the wolves'

"Did you…know Mala'shech very well?" I asked carefully after a moment.

'I hardly know anyone _very well_' Raven retorted 'I have not been with the clan for a long time now. Those I…know better are in Rivendell or with the other groups. But it makes little difference'

"Do they always do this, or is it a…a custom of war?" I asked, hovering between detached puzzlement and repulsion.

Raven took a moment to answer 'When a wolf dies, the Ashi'kha take his fur. When we are unfurred, we need the fur of others. When an Ashi'kha dies, the wolves take his flesh. So each lives through the other'

Coming to think of that, he had never mentioned a cairn. Even when we were at the place his brother had been killed.

'This is the old way' the black continued 'From the time of the Starlit Dark. It was the first agreement we made with the wolves, maybe even before we became wolves ourselves. I never told you, did I?'

I shook my head "It hardly matters, though, now. And it does not change things for Mala'shech. Your clan has just shrunk for the first time in this war. Here. And we do not know what goes on in the other places where the Ashi'kha are"

'We knew we were taking risks. You all take risks. If Mala'shech had not killed the orcs, your people would have lost two good fighters. Let us go back now. We have not finished today. The others will return for their reports as well'

"Why don't you change back when we are not fighting or scouting?" I asked as we neared the centre of the woodland and had passed the sentinels "I can see the other Ashi'kha would avoid changing here, but you…"

'I would have' Raven said at length 'But I feel watched. Like in Imladris. And I don't want to meet them unfurred. When I am wolf these eyes – any eyes - can see less. Much less'

"Yes" I said after a while "Maybe. Lucky you"

The black halted 'I – we two could hardly conceal what we are if I…were Raven instead of the black'

'Do you want to keep it concealed?' I asked 'It hardly matters to me what these elves here think. There is nothing I have to account for. I am beginning to miss Raven, you see? And I don't mean to say the wolf is not company. But he is not my lover'

The black flattened his ears in surprise at my bluntness 'Oh. I thought -'

'That war would drive all thought of that from my mind? I could let it, you know? But I won't. Not as long as I do not know your mind about this'

The wolf stared up at me, then reared to hook his fore paws over my shoulders, leaning against me to keep his balance. Surprised, I put his hands on the wolf's front legs to steady him. Our eyes were almost level that way 'I did not want to get you into – inconveniencies' he said 'It is not that I…did not want to'

One of the Lorien scouts passed us, giving us a puzzled glance. For a moment we both stared after him, then the black looked back at me and cocked his head 'They think the wolf _is _your lover' he stated dryly.

I snickered and held on to the wolf's forelegs when I moved back "What do you think – a dance?"

Raven chuckled 'That would be a sight. We should consider it for their next festival'

We were off-duty for the next two days. Others who had up to now been stationed near the Angle would return to the marches. I could not say what thought lay behind that, if it was out of concern for Mala'shech's death or because of the wolves' role in it. Hador had brought the orders, and the scout could hardly be blamed for anything. After the brief reporting with the other scouts returning from the marches Ivornen had wanted to talk over their strategy with me, and Raven had quickly absented himself as Galadriel and Celeborn presided over the council. Tonight I was at loose ends therefore, having expected to be out at the border again by nightfall. I found myself ringed by most of the pack. The Ashi'kha were gone by themselves. After what Raven had told me about the…lets call it funeral customs…of the Ashi'kha I felt I had reached a certain limit of my understanding of wolf clan. I watched the sleeping wolves thoughtfully, wondering – no, I was NOT going to wonder about that. Too late to wonder, anyway Whatever I felt or thought, it failed to truly upset me. It was a curious thing, I thought, that Elrond arguing Eldarin matters could get me into rage, but the notion of wolves devouring one's own clansmen left me rather cool. In itself, that is. It did not touch me personally. Maybe I should see this wolf-way as well. _You can't change it, you can't understand it, so leave it be. _

By now I could distinguish quite well between the different wolf kinds.Directly opposite me was a grey-brown lowland wolf, a shaggy, thin creature with a ratty look. Beside him, seemingly oblivious to their difference lay a thick-furred, massive mountain-wolf, dark grey. There was one mountain-wolf that was almost white. He was slender and long-legged, less massive than the grey. I thought of Joy, how Raven had described her. It was strange idea, but no longer as absurd as it might have seemed to me in the beginning, that someone could consider a wolf in the same terms one of my people would see his or her mate. But it was too challenging an idea for this night. I sat by my tree and debated if I should enter the city or follow the wolves' example and go to sleep right here.

"Gildor?"

I turned, puzzled "Raven?"

Raven left his cover and came into the clearing "Well met" he said wryly and leaned against one of the trees at the edge carefully, wrapping one of my spare cloaks around himself. "I took the freedom to borrow one of yours" he said, tugging at the collar.

"You're welcome" I watched him warily. Raven looked at the wolves sleeping in the clearing, then back at me "I was wondering if – would you walk with me? I have to get away from this city a while"

"We are a candlemark's walk from the outer walls" I objected, but got up nevertheless "Is it so bad?"

Raven shrugged and made for the forest at a brisk walk "It is not – that bad. But as I said, it is…worse when I am not wolf. We are pretty close to the city, in that respect, at least"

He smiled crookedly "They have taken us out of the schedule until the day after tomorrow. Why? Have you been told or are you ranked among the barbarians now as well?"

"I have not been told" I said hearing my own doubts echoed "But I do not think it is really because the Lorien elves have though otherwise about their decision. We have been out at the border for many days running and a battle. It is only fair to get a few hours off if that is possible Maybe it was just a coincidence that this fell together with Mala'shech's death"

"And maybe not" Raven sighed "Let us go east, the valley there seems…less observable"

"Where are your p… – the other Ashi'kha?"

"Out by beyond the border" Raven said without looking at me "They will call the wolves soon…at dawn"

_Oh. Well. _"I assumed they…had already" I said neutrally.

"The hawk flies at dawn. It was with the first rising of the…the sun that the hawk actually flew. So dawn it is that the dance will be performed and…the body be considered completely left by the…fёa"

"Fingal's hawk dance was not at dawn"

Raven sighed and smiled darkly "That was a kind of a special case" He did not elaborate, but I assumed it had something to do with the brothers' – position in – or outside - the clan. And probably with the circumstances of that occasion. The Ashi'kha were rather flexible in adapting their rituals and traditions.

"What gives me the honour of Raven's company tonight?" I asked after a while of walking in silence.

"Because Raven has been a fool and took some time to realize it" Raven stopped and held me back as well "I am sorry, I did not think. I only saw this…this force holding the forest together and feared it might see something I did not want it to see. I don't know why. Please, do not always wait until I figure things out, tell me when I am a fool"

"I did not call you a fool" I said gently but Raven interrupted me "Nevertheless I was one. Come" He took my hand and we walked on towards the small dale. The trees were smaller here and grown with lichens. Unlike the mallorn trees in the centre of the valley these were bare at this time of the year, though the first buds were showing already. The floor was littered with leaves and mossy.

"Raven has missed Gildor as well, you know" he said as we sat down on a smooth patch of moss "And the wolf…well you have stated that clearly enough"

He lay back against me and plucked at the dead leaves for a moment. I lay down beside him and pulled him into my arms, brushing his unbound hair aside to look at his face. Raven did not react to my scrutiny, only snuggled closer to me and kept his eyes shut.

"Why are you not with them tonight?" I asked finally when Raven did not speak at all "What troubles you?"

"I am not with them because obviously I am with you" Raven made a small sound that might have been a laugh "They will not dance, here, that is. Not yet. What happens now is for Lai'ashi and Saka'nor alone. The other Ashi'kha will not be there either. It is not that what troubles me"

"Well?" I probed "You have closed me out, you know. Do you want me to guess?"

"I don't know it myself, so maybe you could have a go" Raven turned around in my embrace to look at me "Really. I have not closed you out by intention. It's just-"

"Reflex?" I suggested crookedly "Do you want to go on pondering or could I venture some distraction?"

"Any distraction would be appreciated. After all, I have to pay you back for quite a while of abstinence, don't I?"

When we returned to our post next morning Saka'niyan intercepted us, the black wolf trotting down the narrow path with an air of satisfaction 'Ai, you are walking the right direction' the Ashi'kha stated with some amusement 'They have quite a nice breakfast prepared back there'

I tried to place what was different about the two wolves as Saka'niyan watched us with a twinkle in his sharp eyes. Almost all of the Ashi'kha here were black wolves when they changed, but I would never be able to mistake one for the other, as sometimes happened with wild wolves of the same kind. Though I found I had much less difficulty even in that than the Lorien elves.

"They?" Raven asked dubiously.

'Some of the scouts and hunters. The wolves have invaded their little buffet as well, you should really have a look'

I snickered "Now I want to see _that_! Are they sharing, at least?"

Saka'niyan waved his tail merrily 'They have no choice with all the wolves staring at them while they eat. You may guess they can be more unsettling than begging dogs'

"We might as well scandalize them even more" Raven decided sardonically "Let's go, Brother Wolf"

Saka'niyan cocked his head, flattening one ear back and giving us both a knowing wolf stare "Don't you dare say anything" Raven warned him dryly "You know I won't tolerate _any _teasing in that direction, much less coming from you"

Saka'niyan gave a soft snort and bounded down the path in mock fright, tucking his tail between his legs.

"Now I wonder if that was an insinuation" I muttered, looking after him.

Raven growled "Trust me, if it were I would not be standing here still"

"Huh" I said as they walked on towards the gathering place "What is up with you? You're not that sharp about allusions usually"

Raven shrugged "Maybe just a bad day?"

"Do I detect vanity?"

"Never. But Saka'niyan can be dreadful about…changing things"

"Changing things meaning – you and me"

"Some such things"

We reached the clearing and I quickly took in the gathered elves and the present wolves. I grinned inwardly. Now that was a sight.

"Ai, Gildor" one of the guards hailed me "Where is your wolf? One more would not make things worse"

"My wolf?" I raised a questioning eyebrow as I settled myself comfortably in the free space beside one of the wolves.

"He is here" Raven said coolly, following me across the clearing and sitting down on the other side of the wolf. For a moment, all eyes turned to us, with the exception of the wolves'. I noted the assuming glances with grim amusement. Lorien custom was still very determining it seemed, as the guards here all obviously judged by our turning up together with unbound hair. _So they are still keeping that idea alive –_

"You are the…black wolf?" someone blurted, making me wonder what he would have said if he had not amended his hesitation before 'black wolf'.

"Last time I looked I was"

I laughed softly 'Do you realize how absurd that can sound?'

'So what? It is true' "Did nobody enlighten you on the fact that I am Ashi'kha as well?"

The elf in question shrugged "It's rather hard to remember who is and who is not with all these wolves around. I can't remember having seen you before"

"That would be because you haven't" I put in mildly. I helped myself to fresh bread and fruit and passed the basket on to Raven. The wolf followed each motion accurately with amber eyes, craning her head back and forth as Raven returned the basket to me.

'Since when do you eat bread, huntress?' I asked the wolf as she took the offered bite daintily, using only the small front teeth between her fangs. She looked puzzled at the address 'Good' she stated 'Eat all that is good'

The scout sitting beside me frowned "You are _talking_ to them? That works?"

I shrugged "It works if you know on what level to address them. They obviously do not speak Sindarin" I grinned when I saw the scout's irritation "You must use _images_, and then it's perfect" I added to take the sting out of my words "Try"

"Uh" the scout shook his head "Not this time. Coming to think of it – I'd rather not unshield to a wolf. Meaning no insult" he added quickly with a glance at Raven who watched the exchange with amusement.

"You have to unshield, don't you?" the scout asked dubiously, looking from Raven to me.

"I don't" Raven said with a shrug "Because I never shield towards them. But I assume you would have to"

"And how does it…feel, speaking to a wolf's mind?"

"Actually not worse than to an Elven one" I was beginning to enjoy the teasing "You could try with Raven's, for a start"

Raven smiled thinly 'I warn you, my friend' he threatened me silently 'You are not exempt from retaliation wolf-way' "You could" he said aloud "But it's more than half wolf, I fear"

The scout watched us darkly "You two are unbearable. I was asking an honest question"

"And I was giving an honest answer" I said "And so was Raven. Maybe not totally fair, but true nonetheless. By the way, what is your name? It's rather disconcerting talking to nameless scouts all the time"

"Tarafin" the scout said "And these are Thancol, Rhovanna and Taurandir. Hador and Rhiwalagos you know. We are not exactly used to the wolves here, so I suppose that is why we were…are…kind of reserved"

"I can imagine" I murmured.

There was a silent exchange between Raven and the wolf going on and I absently watched them. The two stared at each other and ignored the other elves in the clearing. The wolf crouched down in front of Raven as if ready to leap. It seemed to be a quick alternation of mental attack and counterattack on a humorous level. I watched the tensed wolf shift with every exchange, her amber eyes fixed on Raven, her ears pricked forward and her tail twitching like a cat's. Abruptly she leaped at Raven and pushed him over, growling. She twisted so she could keep her teeth locked on his arm without standing over him, and Raven grabbed her upper jaw and shook her. I took one of the baskets out of their way and shoved the wolf back as she bumped into me. The play went on for a few moments, then she released the dark elf's arm unharmed and shook her ruffled fur out. Raven grinned and cast the rest of his bread for her to catch.

"What was that about?" I asked curiously as Raven brushed his hair back and reached for an apple. He shrugged with a grin "She said I was eating too much and hunting too little. So I told her she could try and see if she could prevent it. She kind of won, I suppose. At least where bread is concerned. She doesn't like fruit, so-" he gave the wolf a pointed glance and took a bite out of his apple.

There was free space between us now that the wolf had settled on Raven's other side and he crossed the distance to seat himself at my side with his best wolf-way matter-of-factness. As that was so obvious a confirmation in public of the already assumed nature of our relationship I felt both puzzled and grimly satisfied, and more than flattered.

We had tried successfully to be discreet in Rivendell, but somehow things had changed with, no, since the Hawk Dance. And more even since crossing the borders of Lorien. Maybe the curious mixture of rigid custom and much freer regard of sexual alliances here was one reason. Neither Raven nor I could now resist the challenge of slight objection to our relationship that met us in the looks of many elves of this place. I had not expected Raven to shift his behaviour so immediately and so much without his usual reserve.

One of the scouts coughed discreetly and tried to return to the original topic "Well Raven. And how much wolf exactly are you?"

Raven looked at the wolf and then at Taurandir "Enough that I could be considering her as a mate if I did not have Gildor" he said dryly.

That answer had been so prompt and so true that I almost burst out laughing. I kept a straight face with some effort and watched the reactions in the clearing. There was a fascinating range of expression there, half of the Lorien guards probably wondering if they interpreted Raven's Sindarin correctly. They were spared an answer, and I deprived of the fun in hearing it, when the signal for the changing of shifts rang from the city. The scouts and guards got up and absented themselves quickly, trying to be inconspicuous and polite.

"Are you mad?" I laughed finally when only the wolves were left with us "What did you drink this morning!"

"Water from the river, as you know quite well" Raven arranged himself comfortably and rested his head in my lap. The wolf wandered over to us and flopped down beside Raven, her head on his thigh and turning an amber stare on me.

'What are _you _looking at, hm?' I demanded of her, but she only licked her muzzle and sent mirth. I shook my head and looked down at Raven "I don't understand you, dark elf, you know that?"

Raven chuckled "I thought if you were going to ruin your reputation I might as well do it thoroughly"

"Congratulations really" I said sardonically "I think I need not worry about the success"

Raven knitted a hand into my hair and pulled me down gently "Pack mate" he stated "Nokashi"

"Yes" I confirmed quietly "Do you want to ruin us completely and start a romp in the middle of the gathering place? By now I think with you everything is possible"

"You bet" Raven smiled ferally "But no, I do not think we should go to such lengths. I think our valley will do"

Chapter Notes:

Ivornen: (S) „crystal water" ?

Rhiwalagos: (S) "winter-storm"

Taurandir: (S) "forest wanderer"

Rhovanna: (S) "wild one"

Tarafin: (S) "unruly hair"

Thancol: (S) "shield-bearer"

Hador: (S) "thrower"

Saka'niyan: laughing river

Mala'shech: guards lair

13


	55. Chapter 55 The Third Battle

**The Third Battle**

Lorien, March 22nd Third Age 3019

Gildor's POV

The watch on the borders never slacked, still the third attack took us by surprise. The orcs came at night, and it was only when the wolves howled frantically that we realized something was afoot. These were our wolves howling, not the ones of Dol Guldur. Even as we ran from our posts to form lines with the defence, the changewolves and wolves that had remained in the woodland that night came running. Raven skidded into me, furred again, and Faire followed, mercifully _not_ skidding into me as well. Raven had saddled her in haste, probably with someone's help because it would have been impossible to get all the straps and pieces into place alone.

'They come across the river. They swim, they have sent werewolves'

"You stay _behind_ the first line" I ordered the gathered Ashi'kha firmly "If possible, stay even behind the second. You can deal with whatever comes through however you see fit. Saka'nor, you run to Celeborn at the northern marsh, Shand'rel, you to Rhiwalagos at the western edge. Tell them the werewolves might split away from us and go round to attack _them_"

The wolves took off. I mounted and turned Faire to run along the invisible line where our first defence would be stationed, shouting for archers and spears to align "Spears to the front. Stand close as if you expected cavalry. Kneel and brace the spear-tip at your head's height. They will try to jump you. Longbows, stand back behind the second line. You in the trees, pick off whatever you see, but listen for volley-commands as well"

Despite the haggling about my command in the beginning they obeyed without question. The first of our wolves that had howled far away came flying, near invisible shapes in the meadows between the reduced wood-edge and the river.

'They will shoot them' the wolf danced around Faire's legs in agitation.

"No" I snarled, shouting "Archers, stay. Spears, let them pass. That's our wolves"

From inside the wood the armoured fighters came running, Ivornen leading them towards me. They all had helms as well. I nodded in satisfaction.

"String them out some distance behind the spears" I ordered him "Their armour must stand against teeth first of all"

Faire was running heavily up and down behind the aligned spear-bearers. On arriving here I had added to her light armour to be specially effective against werewolf-attacks. That meant in addition to the leather-guards on her sides and back there was chain-mail protecting her belly, chest and throat. That was laborious to attach and had considerable weight, but there were no such great distances to cross here. To use as armour on a battlefield, this would have been impossible, but I only had Faire running along the eastern section that had been assigned to me.

Our wolves came in, tongues lolling, and were allowed to pass unmolested between the spear-bearers. No one lost nerve and shot at them, either.

I turned to Raven "You, too. Back at once! Behind the second line"

His ears flattened 'No'

I turned Faire on him and drove him back "Now!"

For a moment he stared at me in rage and defiance, flaring his ruff as an angry cat would puff itself up. Then he turned and was gone. Whatever orcs encountered him first would certainly bear the brunt of his frustration. I waited for a breathless, silent moment. Faire paced up and down behind the line of spear-bearers. I saw the werewolves earlier this time. They were as large as changewolves.

"There they come. Longbows!"

A volley hissed over. Many arrows thudded harmlessly into the ground, but a handful of shapes stumbled, going head over heels when their run was broken. Some got up and ran on, and still more were coming "Longbows again!"

The first arrows of the tree-archers took off the nearer wolves with more certain aim as the next volley from the longbows hissed over our heads. In the distance, I saw some werewolves split off in packs to the sides. So Celeborn and Rhiwalagos would have them on their hands. But the main pack still came for my line. The wolves reached the spears, and some ran up on the fence, impaling themselves. Other judged distance and height better, and leaped. Some spear-bearers managed to drive their spears into the leaping wolves, but they stood up for that, which gave them an opening to attack by the incoming wolves.

"Stay down!" I roared. Faire charged into what wolves she could when they came over the spears. A particularly large one vaulted the fence easily and would have crashed into our side had Faire not turned sharply. The wolf smacked against her armoured side and landed beside us, a little dazed. I dealt it a swift stroke with my sword but had no time to see if it was dead.

No more wolves came. About half of them had been able to move on to the second line, though they were still under fire from the archers in the trees.

"Spears, retreat" I shouted "Stand behind the foot-company. Ivornen, lead them all forward if you can. There will surely be orcs after the wolves"

I could not see what was happening behind the second line. Judging by the sounds, werewolves and ours were engaged by now. Ivornen came up with his line, panting "The wolves were intent on passing us. They went straight for the furred ones, but from what I saw, the Ashi'kha hold their own well"

I swore, but then two wolves came towards us from the meadows, yipping. Ashi'kha. Wisely, they ran straight for Faire and did not attempt to enter the forest.

'Orcs' one hissed into my mind 'Rows and rows. This way, not splitting. But no more coming across water yet. No more wolves. Shinosh watches'

I took their news at face-value and organized the fighters I had for a concentrated attack. Soon we saw the lines coming towards us – and the archers highest in the trees set up a howl of their own.

"Fifty rows deep, maybe a hundred long"

I hesitated. With a mounted rhevain force the size of my current one I would have attacked. Leaving behind half of my force we could have driven a breach into a line that was longer than deep, with our remaining force either splitting to engage the two smaller hosts or attacking from the rear if the orcs threatened to surround us. But these were, though armoured, mostly Silvans, and on foot. Also I had been ordered in no uncertain terms that I was not to _attack_. Sending Ivornen with part of his fighters west I galloped northwards and we arrayed a firm line of defence. Behind that in the thickets the Ashi'kha and wolves stationed themselves, ready to cut off single fighters, pick off strays, and lead strike-and-retreat-attacks out of their cover. Briefly, I saw Raven and Saka'nor, skulking near the last armoured fighters, waiting to be the first to pick off whatever came to them. I sent a swift, wordless prayer to Orome before Faire carried me back to the front. The orcs' armour was black, all metal-pieces dulled. This time, my command to the archers was silent. The first rows of advancing orcs were well within longbow range before I gave the archers freedom to fire to heart's content. A second later, the bowmen in the trees loosened their own arrows. The wolves had attacked far-flung and running like the wind – the orcs advanced in relatively tight ranks. The descent of the first few volleys of longbows and tree-archers cut considerable breaches into their host. But they reformed quickly and stormed on, getting out of longbow-range and clashing with our defence. I wished repeatedly we had cavalry as Faire ploughed through the attackers, her heavy armour giving her impact we had never had before. She practically waded in orcs while I could lop off heads in almost leisurely fashion. We just had to stay in motion. This first wave of orcs was quenched too soon. I heard the wolves howl, and knew more was in store. I wondered how it was going with Raven. Soon word came via the wolves of the next wave of attack. Time dragged on as we re-formed and slew what remained of the first wave. I saw no dead elves, but several were wounded.

The real trouble was that we had no reinforcements and no troops in reserve. Within Lorien we could only shift our forces, but we lost what we lost. If far stronger troops were sent against us, this would become a siege that would drive us into Caras Galadhon with little hope of breaking out. I had no time to ponder either that or Raven's fate. The next wave of orcs was greater, nearly double as much as the first, and swifter. They were accompanied by werewolves as well, and far more came unscathed through the longbows. The fighting turned severe. I lost track of time and reason. Faire was blowing heavily, my arm throbbed painfully and I could feel blood trickle under my left arm-brace. At least it had not been my sword-arm, but it became hard work to lift and strike with my blade one-handed as the fight wore on and on. At one point fires flared up, and they could not be quenched. I sensed blossoming panic among the wood-elves. Most of the longbow-archers had joined the fight with knives and swords, but their armour was light and not made to withstand long hand-to-hand combat. Unwillingly I retreated from the frontline and ordered the archers on foot into a closer body. At least they channelled their threatening fear for their woods into hate. Leading them on with Faire we did much what the wolves did. We ran short attacks into the batches of orcs, and retreated before they could engage us. Wolves and Ashi'kha joined, and now I found myself truly commanding rhevain, as Elrond had said.

Some orcs had axes instead of scimitars, and they used them mostly on the fighters with heavier armour if they could. I caught a numbing blow to my sword-arm and the axe wedged between my arm-guard and the chain-mail beneath. The leather-cinches holding the mail-glove snapped and it slipped so that only the thin leather-glove I wore beneath remained between the axe and my skin. The orc wore no helm, and for a moment we were eye to eye as he tried to pull me off Faire's back while avoiding getting trampled by her. He twisted the axe and wrenched my armguard down so that my sword was twisted from my grip. With my injured arm I pulled my dagger and drove into the orc's eye, snarling as much with rage as with pain. The orc let go, but his axe remained stuck under the metal-plate. I wrenched it out, lost my chain-mail glove completely, and backed Faire towards a tree. Balancing the short axe I wondered if I could continue the battle with it because my sword was nowhere in sight and there was even less hope of retrieving the glove.

"Oi, Gildor!" I turned in surprise at Raven's call, taking a moment to find him in the low branches of the tree beside the one I currently used as shield. He must have changed some time earlier, exchanging fangs for his blade. He looked like a wood-demon crouching there naked and blood-spattered over the battle, grinning "Change of weapons!"

I had not expected him to cast his sword and it nearly fell short of my grasp because Faire was evading and kicking at orcs around us. I caught it by the blade, and the sharp metal slipped painfully through my hand, cutting easily through the thin leather-glove and drawing blood. Grimacing I held on and cast my axe towards Raven's tree, where it snuck firmly in the wood. I saw him stretch forward to pull it out, then Faire reared once more and used her armoured bulk to squash a few orcs out of the way. I transferred my slick grip to the hilt. Raven's blade was unfamiliar and not made for one-handed fighting on horseback. But still better than an axe. I dismounted to fight on foot with Faire acting as my back-guard, and tried to split off a little concentration to stop the blood flowing freely from the deep gash in my hand. I was glad I had both the tree and Faire as temporary shields because as soon as I channelled that little, half unconscious tendril of healing-energy something in the sword answered, coming alive like an uncoiling snake. I almost dropped the blade before the realization snapped into my mind that this was, though foreign, a healing-charm that had responded to my action. But there was no time to hold on to that thought, and fighting on foot was even more exhausting than on horseback. I had to wield Raven's sword two-handed, both for its weight and my injured arm, but to my vague surprise I had little difficulty adjusting to the different blade. I just had to adopt Raven's way of staying in motion and going forward instead of relying on my greater speed and agility. The throbbing pain in my hand and arm dulled and after a while ceased wholly.

Unexpectedly, dawn broke. Through the reek of wet, burning wood it had been hard to see. Gradually, the orcs were forced into retreat. We were near the edge of the eastern march and the woods lightened around us. Then wolves, Ashi'kha and fighters from the other parts came from the sides and the orcs' grudging retreat became a rout. I remounted, and with Faire at the head of our foot-fighters and the wolves harrying the sides of the orc-force we drove them out of the trees and into the meadows.

"Towards the river. Cut them off!" I shouted to the wolves, then remembered to use Ashi'kha "_Ma saka_! _Ma saka_!"

And the pack took off, split, running to circle the orcs out of range of their crossbows. Despite that, they still far outpaced them. Before we had reached the river, the orcs were surrounded in the open and caught between wolves and foot-soldiers. Only now I saw how much it shook even orcs to see their supposed allies the wolves standing against them. Some appeared too confused to fight them effectively and went down quickly. Others focused solely and hatefully on the wolves. We crushed that remnant of orcs in the late morning, and just when I thought victorious defence was ours something hit me. Dimly, I first thought it had been an arrow or a glancing blow, but the second of dizziness had nothing to with physical hurt. I could not scream, but I recklessly drove Faire through the pockets of fighting until a moment later I could drop off her back and kneel beside the twisting wolf. Someone moved to give us cover. My hands shook so badly I could hardly hold him. I screamed Raven's name repeatedly, begging him to lie still. The broken top of an orc-spear protruded from his flank, quivering with every breath he sucked in. Wild rage and the desire to kill the responsible orc nearly blinded me. One of the Silvans jerked me around in the sudden lull "Out of here!"

I picked the large wolf up and stumbled where the elf led, striking as he went before us. Faire guarded our other side. Then we were out of the fray. The elf ran back to the fight and Faire was left to stand guard.

"Raven, change" I whispered frantically. He did, barely stifling a scream. I wondered how he managed to cling to consciousness through that. He tried to claw at the broken spear and I caught his hands "I can try, if you give full control to me. If not and I pull that out…"

I needed not finish. He stared at me, very quiet for a moment. This was his decision. Whatever way he chose, I forced myself to realize I would have to accept it. He took a shivering breath "Try our luck" he whispered.

I dropped whatever shields I had, shutting the battle out of my mind. When I reached for Raven's mind, I found no shields, only blinding agony. We completed the link recklessly, and for a moment I thought I would lose this. I had learned but never trained this way of healing. Reaching out further I enveloped his consciousness, his fёa, and took control of his body. There was a sharp shock that sent panic through both of us. I heard Raven gasp painfully, then our heartbeat and breathing rhythm aligned, and all I could do was scrabble for the thin healer's shields so that his pain would not knock me out as well. If he did not survive my pulling out that spear I knew I would probably die with him. Our minds were not linked completely, but the force of our bodies was one. Mine, because I could feel his own was nearly gone. Raven's hands closed over mine as I took hold of the shaft. I felt them clench, and we pulled. I wished he would let go of consciousness, but he clawed his way out of the haze of agony that threatened to overcome us both. Though I knew I did not experience this myself and only felt _his_ pain, my body reacted with the panic I would felt in his stead. I clamped down on it, caught myself on Raven's fёa, and came back into the real world. I pressed my hands on the dreadful wound in his side in an effort to stop the flow of dark red blood. At least I had learned and trained mind-healing. I channelled all my healing-powers into that wound, pouring them out as I had not thought would be possible. My hands prickled, but I could feel it was not enough. He died anyway.

"No" I slammed down the last one shield all my healing trainers had told me to never, _never_ dispose of. Now I _would_ die with him.

For some reason, I didn't. And hence, he did not either. I came back to myself slowly, thinking it was high time some orc saw us mindlessly crouching at the edge of the battle and came to dispose of us. There was silence except the soft rustle of leaves and low voices. I was drained to the point of losing consciousness, and on realizing that I knew I could not have been unconscious before. Someone touched me, and I jerked up, staring at a foreign elf. By the light blue gown he was a trained healer.

"That was unwise" he whispered "But successful"

So Raven lived. My hand lay on his bloody chest and I could feel his shallow breath. I kept staring at the healer while that fact sunk in.

"Faire?" I croaked then. The healer blinked, but then said "Oh. Your horse. Ivornen took her, she is well"

I lay back and stared at the sky for a moment. It was pearly-grey, and bare branches swung slowly in a light breeze. So they had carried us back under the cover of the forest. Smoke hung heavy in the air here.

"How…long?"

"Since the battle? Maybe half a candlemark. Here. Clean your hands" The healer gave me a long, wet rag. I obeyed numbly.

"And try to eat" he pushed something into my hand which I took a moment to define as lembas. I sat up and nibbled at it. The healer had obviously cleaned and wrapped Raven's spear-wound, but not yet had time to see to his other injuries.

"Can you close the bond?" he asked softly "He will live, but if you keep it open, it will drain you continually for as long as he needs to heal"

I shook my head, too weary to snap at him for even suggesting that.

The healer nodded with some resignation "If you can wake him, make him drink as much as he can" he pointed to some water-flasks beside us "He lost so much blood it is only through your bond he survived at all. I must see to the others"

I gave a small nod "Thank you"

I sat and slowly finished the piece of lembas, staring at Raven and shivering. I could feel the thin strain the bond that connected us caused. It seemed difficult to draw breath. The healer had left rags, clean bandages and salves. I fumbled for a water-flask and drenched a piece of cloth, washing the dried blood off Raven's face and hands. The heavy flask slipped my grip and I snatched it up before all water was spilled, swearing under my breath. Before I could see what other wounds he had, I had to get him clean. Whatever the black had done before the spear had got him, he must have been successful. There was as much fresh orc-blood on Raven as his own. He came awake when he felt the cold water on his skin, trying to roll over and get up.

"No, madman" I tried to hold him down without causing him more pain. Raven blinked and abruptly relaxed "Gildor…what-?"

"Lie still" I said, and for once he obeyed.

"Your sword?" he asked with closed eyes.

I shrugged "If it's still there I will find it. Yours was just as good. You won't be happy if I wrap all these?"

Raven smiled weakly "No. Help me…up"

I sat down behind him so he could lean against me and gave him a water-flask. Raven struggled for breath a moment before he took a few sips. Swords…

"Raven!" I snatched Thorn up and pushed it at him, gently closing his fingers on the naked blade. Since we were almost completely unshielded I could use what little healing-powers he had at the moment as my own, and I did not waste a moment to remember that my people considered it wrong. The blade did not either, and Raven would have pushed the sword back at me in fright if he had had the strength.

"What is that?" he gasped when I closed my hands over his, forcing him to hold on to the blade. He stopped trying to push it away and relaxed a little, panting.

"The answer to a long riddle" I said after a moment when I could feel the up to now latent charm wake completely and focus on Raven "The reason I did not like the feel of this sword. I thought it was just dark memories of Gondolin, maybe a touch of its eccentric smith. But it really told us what it was in the very beginning! Do you remember the translation of the inscription? _Bound in the darkness, stills the blood that it draws_. There is a sort of healing-charm on it, or better _in_ it, that will bind to the bearer. Just you couldn't use it because the way you use healing-energy is not the Eldarin way, to which it responded immediately. And I could not see what it was because it was only a latent charm and had to be awakened. I am surprised that the power of it did not fade over the centuries. It will have made some sort of bond to you, though, I think. You wore it the longest and used it the most. And, what I think is that this bond gave you part of the strength to fight in that reckless way you do. Even latent, that healing-charm was active in some way"

"Oh" Raven stared at the blade, looking a little pole-axed "What…did you do?"

"Focused the awakened charm on you. Keep the sword with you now. Every additional little bit helps. Can you cope for a moment? I must see if I can find my own blade somewhere before we move back"

Raven gave a small nod "Your…glove. The wolves found it before we ran for the…river. They smell through the rubbish…for quite a lot of people. Look for…Shinosh. He may have found your blade, too"

Shinosh _had_ found my blade, and I hastened back to Raven with my armour and weapons nearly complete again. I would have to look for one of the leatherworkers as soon as I could, though. I needed a new glove and the straps of the chain-mail glove were torn beyond repair as well. Shand'rel brought word from Ivornen that he would care for Faire and send on any news or orders. With enormous persuasion I managed to get Raven to drink some more, and then half carried half dragged him to a shelter of oiled cloth the healers had spread and fastened to the lowest branches. I leaned back against a tree-trunk and held Raven against me so he did not have to lie flat. Every move was an incredible exertion. As the healer had said, the only reason Raven still lived was because I did. So I closed my eyes and simply sat there with him, unable to do anything more or to stop my shivering.

Chapter Notes:

Shinosh: storm-bird

Shand'rel: snow-song

Saka'nor: river-chanter

Sakar'niyan: laughing river/water


	56. Chapter 56 Mark of the Shadow

**Mark of the Shadow**

Lorien, March 24th TA 3019

Galadriel's POV

Three wolves were killed, but except Mala'shech all of the Ashi'kha had yet survived. It seemed like a miracle. A handful of werewolves had gone astray when the attack had been repelled, fleeing into the forest. The Ashi'kha had tried to round them up with the help of Lorien hunters. I had had a hair-raising demonstration of how the Ashi'kha dealt with the possessing spirits, but the cornered beasts fought viciously, and the Ashi'kha managed to save only three of the wolves alive in the end.

All around Lorien fires raged, burning by some dark malice on wet wood as well as on dry. Several outer areas had to be abandoned to the fire, and the efforts of quenching the flames were restricted to the inner forest. There had been no time yet to count all losses, and all those who were able were on their feet trying to heal what injuries they could and patrolling the land.

It was early dawn when I returned in haste to the former gathering clearing where now the most heavily wounded were treated. I spent all morning there, exerting all healing powers of Nenya I could summon. By midday one of the guards brought me bread and cold meat, insisting that I eat. As I sat on the fallen limb of a mallorn, staring across the devastation even in the heart of the realm, Gildor came towards me. With Raven he had been at the eastern edge of the defence, where things had been most thick, and he looked it. His armour was soot-stained and bloody, and he himself appeared ready to drop dead. He was alone, and the expression on his face boded ill. My heart missed a beat. If his companion had been killed, I needed no foresight to guess... I did not finish the thought and waited for him to reach me, keeping my mind blank.

He flopped down beside me gracelessly, fatigue radiating from him "We lost fifteen in the east. Of the others, I don't know yet" he said tonelessly, following my stare into nothingness.

Fifteen. The number registered with me slowly. Twenty, in the north-east alone. Celeborn had not yet returned or sent word how many _he_ had lost. I turned my mind to the present and looked at Gildor's pale face. He was marvellously shielded. I would have to ask then, the ordinary way "Where is the black wolf? - Raven?"

"Still east" Finally Gildor met my eyes "He lives"

I closed my eyes for a moment, inexplicable relief sweeping over me "His fate is…bound up with yours" I said after a while.

Gildor chuckled darkly "Of course it is"

"No" I said "I do not mean it so…simple"

"You never do" Gildor said with mild amusement "Did you employ your mirror again?"

"The mirror remains blank when it concerns Raven" I admitted "He shows me only the wolf, and only the wolf I see. What I mean is…more vague"

"Coming from you, I do not know if that is comforting or terrifying" Gildor stared down at his hands "In the midst of this chaos your concern could not lie chiefly with the welfare of my soul and Raven's life, could it?"

"No?"

"You could not see these attacks coming" Gildor said into the empty air.

"No" I confirmed "To the east is only deep darkness. No scrying, no foresight, no mirror avails anything against it. What comes from there, I can only tell when it is come. It were the wolves, you know – they scented what could not be seen. It is…well that you brought them"

Gildor looked at me searchingly "What is on your mind?"

I shook my head with a slight smile. I took Nenya off and held her in my hand. Gildor glanced at me uncertainly. I knew the Three were a sore spot for him. He resented the idea of power within objects in general, yet he had helped gaining part of the knowledge Celebrimbor had needed from the Avari. Occasionally he even used that knowledge himself. It was not Elrond's way to place guilt, but his repeated pointing out of those facts probably amplified Gildor's aversion to the rings and our and his increasing dependence on them.

"The power of this is rooted in the One" I said "These are really 'roots in the dark', as Elrond put it. As you said. And yet we use them against the very source in which they rest. Elrond is …too much of a warrior. He must control things, or at least attempt to do so. In the case of the Bruinen, that is indeed useful. Lorien is fenced…or was, and inside the fence, there is order. My order. But the wolves are wild. As Raven said, they are opportunists. They owe allegiance to no one. They were a risk. The order of the wild is that there is no order, or little, as far as our understanding is concerned. It was certain that Elrond would not like that thought"

"Are you speaking of the wider context or is this for my benefit?" Gildor asked warily "Your words are two-sided"

"_I _am of two minds" I amended "And this is said between us. The Ashi'kha and the wolves may have not turned the war, but they are here – and they have their part. And Raven has his part. For you. But what, I see not"

"We hardly need to worry about tomorrow, do we?" Gildor said bitterly "If the war is won or not, _we_ have nothing. There is only shadow, and if that comes not, then the sea. Don't you remember, Altariel – _tears unnumbered you will shed_. And it never changed, even now it still is there. I have always been a fool" he added in a soft snarl "And I don't seem to change. Here we have the whole land falling to bits around us and discuss – _what? _The future or our petty heartaches. Damn"

I looked at him, taken by surprise by his outburst more than by the name he used, a painful echo of a long gone past. But I had no answer to that. It was too true.

Even if the Shadow was destroyed, time remained. Time was our greatest enemy. Right now, it slipped through my hands like sand from a broken glass. Too fast, and too disordered. There were only uncertainties and no hope. Raven was just a small unresolved riddle in the shifting shadows of the present. And though his life was bound up with Gildor's, I could not lay a finger on the intersection. Maybe Gildor was right in refusing any misty hopes – and that was all we could hold, if we so wanted. What is not held cannot be taken.

"Damn. I'm sorry, I have no right to snap at you for no reason" Gildor said wearily "I have to go back, I just need a few things. Do you have clean bandages around still?"

"We have. Gildor, wait. How long have you been up now?"

He shrugged, puzzled "Don't know. Few days. I'm fine"

"You are not 'fine'. Why did you not call me? You needn't have risked your life healing him"

"Galadriel-" Gildor looked away "We were in the midst of really dirty fighting. I did not exactly have time to think a lot. And your own people need you here just as well. You know it was nothing I could not do"

If the battle had not exhausted his reserves completely, his brush with Raven's near-death certainly had. Or still was. I took his hands, and he was too proud to pull back, though his eyes flashed in anger.

"You have opened an unrestricted bound to him" I observed.

"I knew what I did" he returned tightly. I stared at him for a moment before releasing him. I gathered up some of my supplies and wrapped them in a blanket.

"Well" I asked "Can we go?"

"Galadriel, he is _terrified _of the rings! That is the main reason I did not ask for your help yet"

"Well, I need not use Nenya"

Gildor sighed in exasperation "It is enough that she is _there_. Do you not have your hands full _here_? Leave the wolves to me"

"I am here for all those who fought for Lorien" I took Gildor's arm and led him forward "Now, tell me what happened"

Gildor reluctantly fell into step beside me "A spear" he said after a while, giving in "It would have killed the wolf, so he had to change back and that took the energy he would have needed to help me heal him. That's why I am not exactly in best shape"

_Best shape_. I snorted silently. _You are dead on your feet._

We had to walk for almost an hour, but did not speak at all. The smoke from the borders drifted through the forests, mingling with the choking stench of burning orc carcasses. In many places the grass and undergrowth was trampled or scorched. Near the eastern gathering glade several huge trees had been felled. I bit my lip and marched on in silence. Not even Nenya could replace those ancient mallorns. In summer, I told myself stubbornly, these barren clearings would be grown with fresh grass and wild flowers.

In a summer I might not even see here.

We neared one of the greater new clearings. Orcs were piled there, and a severed orc's head stuck on a broken spear in front of the pile. All the surviving wolves were in this clearing. The changewolves were further west, Gildor said when I inquired for the whereabouts of the Ashi'kha. Raven rounded the pile of orcs as we came into view, dragging the mangled carcass of one of the werewolves by the forefeet. He let go of it and dropped to his knees beside it, pressing his arm across his belly.

"For heaven's sake wait here" Gildor told me softly, his tone boding no disobedience. Raven staggered to his feet when he became aware of us. His shock was so palpable for me that I checked my shields to see if I had forgotten to raise them. I had not.

Raven's voice was sharp, but he spoke Ashi'kha and Gildor's response was so soft I did not even catch in which language he actually answered. I had seen Raven not as wolf only once, briefly, in darkness and from a distance. All my other encounters with him had been limited to seeing the black wolf. _Quenya,_ I remembered_ Gildor said he speaks Quenya. _

When no argument ensued between the two I approached as well. I had the impression Raven only stood where he was because Gildor held him and he would not fight the Elda. I halted a few steps from them and dimmed Nenya's power to the point of blocking the ring from my mind. Then I took her off again and transferred her to a chain about my neck.

"I can not use her this way" I said, catching Gildor's surprised glance. I _never _took off the ring when facing strangers. That was the rule. That was what made the Lady of the Golden Wood the farseer and seer she was rumoured to be. I smiled knowingly. He would not have supposed I might willingly limit my powers of Seeing and Testing for the sake of a stubborn changewolf "That is what Elrond did not even think of doing, isn't it?" I asked gently "I see much for myself, Raven, but whatever you wish to hide, you can keep concealed this way. Now will you have me let a look at that?"

It was odd talking in Quenya once more, after years and years of Sindarin. Even with Gildor and the few Noldor who lived in Lorien I used Sindarin. Raven stared at me for a moment before answering "I would not" he said hoarsely, in sharply accented Quenya "But as _he_ could not refuse you coming here, it seems I hardly can"

"Come on" Gildor led him away from the orc-pile and to the edge of the clearing "I have already insulted her enough for two, do not add your venom"

Raven laughed and then winced as he sat down, leaning back against the tree. I knew he felt cornered, but my perception of him was limited to that without Nenya. As I had said, he showed me only the wolf, and that part was concerned with flight.

I crouched down beside Gildor and deposited my bundle on the trampled grass. Raven looked carefully past me as I tugged the fasteners of his gown loose and pushed the fabric aside. It had stuck to the wound where Raven had pressed his arm across, and I tried to pry the garment off without causing him more pain.

"Wait" Raven closed his eyes and pulled the cloth away with a sharp tug. I hissed when I saw what was beneath "I thought you had already healed that!" I blurted, _very unprofessionally_, a tiny voice in my mind whispered sardonically. Gildor smiled thinly "I did. And believe me, it looks a lot better than it did when we pulled the spear out"

_It would have killed the wolf _must have been the understatement of the day. It would easily have killed the elf, even had he been armoured.

"You have greater power than I guessed" I looked at Gildor thoughtfully. If I had hoped for elaboration I was disappointed.

"I am full of surprises, am I not?"

I recognized the words, another bitter reminder of the past. When it had become public that Gildor and Silmarussё had all intention of becoming partners but none at all to marry sharp words had flown, especially between the families. These words had been Gildor's non-committal reply to the inevitable accusation that ran like "We would never have thought you would do that!"

Though I knew him long, I had never known him well. I did not remember this sharp cynicism. It was unsettling. There was tension between these two which had nothing to do with any quarrel in their relationship or with my presence. I could not figure out without _seeing _more.

"Do you have water which has been heated before?" I said instead.

Gildor shrugged "Not here. I can fetch some" Raven gave him a haunted glance as Gildor got up, but he said nothing.

"It was not a trick to get you alone" I said "You know wounds that are so deep should not be washed out, but I can do nothing without water here. Battlegrounds like this do not help keeping wounds clean…What lies between you two?" I asked abruptly, untying the bundle and taking out bandages and salves. Raven turned his head around, now really looking at me. He was breathing hard, and I could not say if it was pain or fear of me.

"The sea" he said suddenly "Only that"

I had not expected so blunt an answer and paused in laying out my supplies "The west does not call to you" I said carefully. It was a non-sequitur that generally served to puzzle dark elves. Raven seemed to be doing some quick thinking and come to a conclusion.

"I would go with him nevertheless" he said "But I am-" he looked down at the grass for a moment before returning his gaze to me "My other half is wolf. I already know what it feels like to loose a part of one's fëa, I have no desire to repeat the experience. I doubt that I would survive it, and I know I would not want to. Can you tell me your…your gods would let a changewolf enter their…their guarded lands and remain what he is?"

"No" I said softly "I have been there, but I cannot give you an answer to that"

I reached out to search the wound but then halted and sought Raven's eyes. He shrugged slightly "There is little you could find out that you do not already know, I fear"

Raven was shielded as perfectly as Gildor. Even touching him I could not tell more about him than, as he had truly said, I already knew. Or guessed.

His skin felt dry and hot "Are you…do you have a fever?"

"No" he said uncertainly "That is…normal for my people. I think"

Gildor returned with the water. It was still steaming. I held the herbs in my hand for a long moment, gathering my own powers of healing and spell-weaving before crunching the leaves into the water. They took some time to soak, and I clasped the wooden bowl in both hands, letting my power pass into the liquid.

"So you use earth magic yourself" Gildor stated when I finished my silent invocation and opened my eyes again.

"In my own land, yes. But what do you mean with 'myself'?"

"Elrond was not happy with the way the change can make use of earth magic -"

"- and twist it into its own designs" I finished "I have sensed these changewolves here, Gildor, and I don't think I would 'be happy' witnessing the change at a close range. If you want me to be honest, I would have ranked the Ashi'kha in the list of demons rather than elf or beast. Neighbourhood to Dol Guldur works miracles on ethics, don't you think?"

I smiled, seeing that Gildor obviously was not sure what to make of my words. Raven said nothing.

"I know better now" I added, stirring the water in the bowl slightly "You will remember what I said about the three and their roots in the dark. We hardly have a reason to refuse an ally on the grounds that he bears a mark of the Shadow when we ourselves found our realms on that ultimate power. Now…I think this is cooled down enough"

I soaked one of the bandages in the warm liquid and let the water trickle over the wound without touching for a moment. Raven bit down on a hiss and instead dug his hands into the grass when I started to clean the deep wound. I thought he was going to faint, knowing how much agony this must cause him. But he clung to consciousness with an iron will.

"Is then the change our mark of the Shadow as you put it?" Raven asked when he could breathe again "I cannot remember my people having ever served the Shadow. And I cannot believe all of your people fell for Sauron's lies or were guilty of rebellion" He looked at me thoughtfully "My brother used to say the Valar are unfair. You have known Fёanor. You have been there when They made you all into exiles – do you still think the Valar are fair?"

Long ago I would have answered differently. Now, I could no longer do so "I do not judge the Valar" I said quietly "It is for them to judge _me. _But I see your point, dark elf. Look at it this way – Lorien is not evil, though the power upon which it rests is founded in Sauron. I do not say your people have become so through the dark one. I do not know that either. I do not say they are evil because they are changewolves. That would only be an overt mark of the shadow, if you want to retain the metaphor, and nothing you could change. You choose your allegiance freely"

I opened a jar which contained a soft, bitter-smelling salve "That is about the strongest stuff I have here. It will numb your whole side, but as things look that would be an advantage. I will leave it here, but do not keep using it if you start to feel dizzy. It can be poisonous, and I don't know how you may react to it"

Raven squeezed his eyes shut and waited for me to complete my business. I wished he would have let me start mind-healing, but he needed most of his concentration not to resist even the diffuse healing-powers I employed.

"What about your people? Are they alright?" I asked when I had finished. He nodded "You need not go there"

I gathered my supplies and got up. Gildor seemed to be relieved that I had come after all now, but he flatly refused my offer to help him.

"Just a few scratches"

"Just a few scratches _and _an unrestricted bond" I pointed out "You have not trained for this. That wound did get him very close to death – take care how far you go"

"Exactly as far as the next cook-fire" Gildor said with mild irritation "I know what I am doing, Galadriel"

"The next cook-fire is with Hador over there" I said with a sigh, inspecting the orc-carcasses "I go there. Speaking of fires, this will make a great stench and smoke"

"Yes" Gildor stared at the slain orcs "It will. Wait a moment then, I am coming with you"

I sidled around the disgusting heap, discreetly watching and eavesdropping.

Raven relaxed minutely when Gildor knelt beside him. He spread a damp cloth on the dark elf's side and wrapped a clean bandage around him to hold it in place, then pressed a flask into Raven's hands when he was finished "Drink something. You're pale as a sheet"

"I am just thinking over my breakfast" Raven whispered "I don't think I want to add anything to that"

Gildor smiled "You_ had_ no breakfast. Now drink"

Raven obeyed and grimaced "Heavens, simple water would have sufficed"

"Don't start carping at miruvor, be glad I left you some. How do you feel?"

"Fucked up"

"Now _that_ I would know"

Raven started to snicker but caught his breath sharply "Bastard" he gasped "Don't make me laugh"

"Good" Gildor nodded with satisfaction "As long as you can swear I don't have to worry that much. Just do me a favour and don't start lugging carcasses about straight off again"

"Don't worry, I don't feel like getting up for several days. Where are _you _going?" Raven asked hurriedly as Gildor got up.

"Getting some food" he said "I trust the wolf will get hungry when he smells it"

He accompanied me to Hador's guards and wrapped some bread and cold meat in a piece of cloth to take back with him.

"What then is the covert mark of the shadow?" he asked softly as he turned to leave "For all your surprising acceptance of these things I still do not believe you are above insinuation"

"I did not mean what you suspect" I said truthfully "If I wanted to criticize your relationship I would do so more directly. You were not exactly discreet a few days ago, I hear"

Gildor shrugged "No. If they want to frown we will give them cause. And don't tell me this is unheard of in Lorien"

"It is not" I said, unabashed "Just not with a half-wolf"

Gildor laughed out loud "Do they think _that_! Really?"

"No. But the suggestion is there" I frowned at his mirth "I see you are wickedly amused. How far do you want to carry the implication?"

"That depends utterly on Raven" Gildor grinned broadly. More earnestly he added "I hope you see we have other worries than planning on public fornication?"

I nodded quietly "The sea is certainly a formidable rival for your warlike dark elf"

"So" Gildor looked away for a moment "It is. There is really nothing I can say to that. You have to stay. I would pay dearly if I _could _stay"

"You do not _want_ to leave?"

"No"

"I thought-" No, this was wrong. Many left Middle Earth in despair. Many left because they wanted to. Leaving was the way, since the beginning of time ordained so. Finally leaving had always been my goal, my hope. A shining hope at the end of this darkest road, though I feared the pain with which I would have to walk there. The ships. Despite all the foreseeable losses in going I _wanted_ to leave. I had not expected Gildor to say so, ever. With so much conviction, after all that had happened and after so long a time.

"He _would_ go with you" I probed carefully, wondering if Raven had revealed his reason why he was frightened of the West. Gildor looked at me sharply "How do you want to know?"

I sighed. Why could not he give me a complete answer, just once!

"He mentioned something like it"

Gildor shook his head "He cannot, Galadriel! Not as he is! Or can you tell us that…that…"

"…that they would let the changewolf remain what he is?" I finished. So they had broached this between them "I could not give an answer to Raven. I can give you none. What are the Ashi'kha? How did they become so? That is, I think, upon which the answer depends"

"You speak in riddles, Altariel"

"No. At least not intentionally. You know as much as I do about fёar – the Valar are not almighty. Did Morgoth make the Ashi'kha what they are as maybe he made the orcs? If so, chances are the Valar may both want to redress the change _and _have the power to do so, as he was one of them. If Eru Illuvatar created them so, or gave them the power to become what they are, then the decision lies with him alone. But as far as I can judge, Raven's people did not know about the West in any way: if Eru created them, his designs for their afterlife must have been special. I have not passed through Mandos, Gildor, and if Glorfindel could not tell if there are Ashi'kha fёar there, I most certainly cannot either. And if the Ashi'kha first changed by their own powers, I would guess this cannot be taken from them by any force except the One himself. If Raven has spoken to you about this, what I said you could figure out for yourself. And he gave part of the answer himself. The change and the wolf are part of his mind, his fёa. And the fёa cannot be changed by any force, except maybe its owner's"

The look on Gildor's face told me his thoughts must have run that course as well before. I had just proven him that he had not brewed up fancy.

"No one can ask him to give that up" Gildor hissed "What would we have even if he did? Half a life each, and that does not make a whole"

"I did not say _anyone_ should ask that" I replied "But the sea calls to you. I…can see it. It tears at you"

Gildor raised a hand slightly "Don't. Don't say it. And I hate the fact. I hate myself for that damn weakness. They will win. And I do not want them to"

Now that was stated with heartfelt anger. I felt stricken "They?" I asked, though I guessed the answer.

"The Valar"

"Do you think it is a war they wage, Gildor, that they would 'win'?"

"I don't care. Don't look at me like that, Altariel. I love this land, you know? For all that it is under the Shadow. If the wolf has shown me one thing, it is to be alive. Truly alive. My life. With no steering power above me, watching like parents over the scrambling of their child! I do not feel like…like fading into history, can't you see? I want to live! I have eternity, if you will. If I can fight the sea"

"You _have _changed" I stated softly "No, I don't mean it as a rebuke. I told Raven I do not judge the Valar. I still won't. I can search hearts and tempt all I want, but this is _here._ In Middle Earth. In the west, Galadriel will have no power. But she will be healed. Of pride also, I deem" I smiled slightly, but Gildor only shook his head "Do you see that there is the catch? They say pride is a sin, a mark of the shadow, to use our favourite phrase today. In the beginning" he added quietly "it was the objection of our families that posed Silmarussё's and my greatest enemy. That swiftly changed into Valarian law itself, and it remained a shadow of doom throughout my time with Glorfindel. And now the enemy is a shadowy, un-fightable force that washes the shores of Middle-earth. I did not mean to say this, least of all to you. Maybe Raven's way of taking no prisoners is rubbing off. Maybe this is the mark of the shadow you referred to. The grace of returning has become a ban on staying. A curse" Gildor groaned softly "One more. Great"

I almost laughed, but the matter was too great for laughter. I was not sure if he spoke in mockery or true desperation "What will you do?"

Gildor snorted "I rather fight the sea with teeth and claws than be reduced to a begging child" he turned away abruptly "I am tired. I will only speak foolishly if I say anymore tonight. Please. You had better forget what I said. Maybe I have lived too long under the shadow indeed"

I watched him walk back into the dark forest. Pride again. That was the only thing I had understood about Fёanor, understood with my heart. But I had had many long centuries in Middle Earth to see there was an ending, and an end this way or that. If there was a possibility to fight one's own war against the powers of time, I could not see what it was.

If there was, I thought, Gildor would find it. And probably hold on with teeth and claws, as he put it. Raven, I realized. It must come down to Raven. He was at the core of this change, maybe he would provide the solution.

9


	57. Chapter 57 End of the War

**End of the War**

Lorien, 25th – 27th March TA 3019

Gildor's POV

Raven and I stayed in the partly destroyed hut that had been a scout-shelter before. The hut was open on one side and pretty draughty as some boards had been torn out of the walls, but it was dry, and did not smell of cold ash. Had she had her way, I suppose Galadriel would have kept Raven in the healers' tents. If we stayed here I was near the Ashi'kha and the wolves if there were problems, which I used as an excuse to ignore the wiser course and take Raven into Caras Galadhon myself. My main concern was that we would be left _alone_.

I wished for athelas, but there was none left in all Lorien. Though Galadriel had done what she could, or what Raven would let her do, the deep spear-wound did not get better. Raven could not shake off the fever that had set in the night after Galadriel's visit. He could not sleep either, being constantly in pain no matter how he sat or lay. A few times he tried to eat something, but it always made him sick and after the third time he refused to try anymore. I saw to it that he at least drank enough, and helped him down to the small river several times a day. The cold, clear water of the Celebrant at least did not fail in its powers. It seemed to keep Raven's fever down a little, though he often cowered so long in the chill flow that I feared he would catch his death by cold. Galadriel had warned me darkly of unrestricted bonds, but I had not attempted to tamp our connection down yet. On the third day Raven's fever broke, giving me a small respite from the continual strain his condition posed on me. Though I put every bit of strength I regained into new attempts of speeding the healing of his wound bit by bit it was not enough. The necessary cleaning of the deep, raw gash caused Raven increasing agony, to the point that he clutched a wall-board above his head to keep still.

One of the healers' apprentices now brought us food regularly, but I forgot to ask for new bandages, and the linen strips ran out sooner than I had expected. I did not feel well in leaving Raven alone again, but could not wait for the afternoon. It would take until evening for someone to bring a new supply out here then. I reached the cluster of huts and tents in admirable time, and heard one of the healers saying a ranger had found and brought some athelas plants here. I got directions where to find what I was looking for, and ran into frazzled-looking Galadriel when I pushed through the tent-flap.

"Is there some left?" I asked, too weary for a greeting, squeezing inside.

"On the tab-" She was half past me when she whirled, holding the flap in one hand "Gildor. I didn't realize it was you. For Raven?"

I nodded.

"How…is he?"

I shrugged "He can't sleep, he can't eat and he can hardly bear any touch on his side anymore, but he will tell you he is fine"

She was watching me like a lioness her chosen prey, the universal healer's glance "He can't sleep, or he doesn't want to?"

"Can't" I went to the table she had indicated. There were fresh leaves in a basket lined with wet cloth.

"Gildor, wait" She followed me and held out a small phial when I turned "This is _carlam_-leaf. Take it with you"

"It weakens the shields" I interrupted her "Forget it"

"I know it does. We use it in fёa-raika. You must use more. See that he drinks enough before he takes this. Poppy is rubbish, and this is the only sleeping draught I have which I know will not poison him"

"He'll rather take poison than this"

I stared at the phial, fighting a brief battle with myself. If Raven only was able to sleep for a while his body might regain the strength it lacked now for healing itself. Every bit of power he had went into the attempt to keep going. It was impossible to make him lie still for any length of time, as if he feared he would never get up again. A wolf that can't hunt is a dead wolf. I knew that since I had first met him. But even then he had not been in so bad a state as now. _"The law of prey is motion" _he had said yesterday when I had tried to talk him into resting. This had been close, but, knowing he would not die now since I would not, I had not seen how close it still felt for him. The wolf was hunted now, prey, and lying down would mean giving up. I could not explain that to Galadriel, but I took the _carlam_-essence, and hoped Raven might trust me enough to take it anyway.

When I came back to the hut Raven was outside in the thin sunlight of an overcast spring day. He had pinned the skin of one of the recently killed werewolves to the ground and slowly but steadily scraped the fleshy underside clean. 'Curse you' I wanted to snarl, seeing how much pain each motion cost him, but I didn't. I sat down beside him and dropped the small bundle I carried, watching him. He had tied his unkempt hair back into a loose tail, but most of it had already escaped the thong, flying in the strong breeze. It was cold, but he was sweating all the same. It seemed the more the pain in his side increased the more doggedly he worked.

"You think that will make it better?"

He did not look up "The hides will rot otherwise. We have no salt to keep them fresh"

That was right but did not answer my question. The Ashi'kha prized wolf-furs, and of course with much more attachment than anyone else. They made little difference what kind of wolf the hide had belonged to before. As much as I hated the idea, I crouched down beside him and said "Give me that"

Raven brushed hair out of his eyes with the back of his hand and glanced at me sharply, half expecting I meant to forbid him his tanning. He gave the greasy slab of sharp flint-stone to me with some hesitation, then snorted when I set to work where he had left off "Either you're getting mad or you have a problem seeing me work"

"Either you're still suicidal or you have a mean streak of making yourself suffer"

I tried not to show the disgust I felt, touching the raw skin. I could not even say what revolted me so much. I had killed and skinned uncounted beasts before. I had no problem knowing such furs integrated into Raven's winter-cloaks. Still, this tested my loyalty to him very much. Raven sat back against the hut's wall and stretched out as best as he could, wiping his hands on the grass.

"I tried to call the Other Wind long ago" he said softly after a while "You would not let me then. Now, I am afraid to do it"

I stopped my scraping. Raven had made more headway cleaning the skin than I would have guessed from the time I had been gone, and there was blessedly little bloody fat left to scrape off.

"The Other Wind?" I asked suspiciously.

Raven gave a short, miserable kind of laugh.

"You don't walk _shin'a'sha_ freely. You are forced on thunder-road. You must walk the wind, when the Hawk flies. But you can choose, too…you can call the wind, the other wind that bears the hawk across from _shech'khai yelo_" He paused, catching his breath "But not anymore. I can't. I'm frightened. I don't want to leave you"

I tossed the stone down on the hide and knelt beside him. I won't leave you' I wanted to say, but the words refused to pass my throat. I could not say so without lying, and I hated it with all my heart. I could not even look at him straight. I took his hands, and he clutched mine.

"It is not our fault" he said "It's not yours"

Now it was my turn to give a miserable laugh "Maybe not"

Raven let go of my hands and reached for a spare scraper I had not noticed. "Let us finish that" he said, moving forward to bend over the hide again. This time, I did not protest and crouched down on the other side. We cleaned the hide together and then pinned it to the wall of the hut to dry.

"Galadriel gave me this" I said abruptly that night, brushing away a few last crumbs of fresh bread and standing the small phial on the packed dirt-floor. Raven had refused to eat again, and only nursed a cup of water. He immediately got his hackles up, suspicion written large over his face as if the vessel might blow up any moment.

"So?"

"It is _carlam_"

Raven dropped his eyes abruptly "So"

"Think about it" I said "At least that"

He did not speak to me all night. I slept for a few hours, vaguely feeling the presence of one of the wild wolves in the hut. When I woke, I could tell Raven had not once closed his eyes. The wolf, the female he had bantered with in the scouts' glade, was curled up beside him and did not stir as I started moving about the hut. I pushed a full water-flask at him and Raven took it without argument, slowly turning the cork. The tight bandage around his middle was in need of changing, but I said nothing. I went down to the river for a wash and to refill our water-supply. It was still dark. When I came back, he had emptied half the flask. I sat down in front of him "If you take this, I can leave the cleaning until you sleep"

Raven stared at me for a long moment, returning the challenge, but then his will gave out and he turned away.

"I can't. Not yet" It was barely a whisper.

"What do you want to wait for?" I asked softly "That you keel over?"

He made no reply. I would get nowhere challenging him this time. That worked when he was defiant, but not when he was frightened. I was not injured, only weary. I knew I could keep this physical connection up forever, though it drained me. But it would never avail much more than keeping Raven on the edge of getting better. He had absolutely no reserves left, and, I realized these days, though he took mighty blows in stride, his body could not deal with a leeching wound like this as quickly as one of my own kind could have. That he refused Galadriel's help did not make it any easier. My own pride would have given way much earlier – I would have _asked _for Galadriel's help.

"There is no one here except me" I said, switching to Ashi'kha "No one who could touch you then. I guard. Not even I need touch you"

That seemed to terrify him even more. The wolf made a soft, whining sound, curling tighter against him. He stared at her, stroking the wiry fur unconsciously.

"How long?"

"Two days at the least. Three. Maybe four. That depends. I cannot control that. Your body decides"

"Four days!" Raven squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. He was not shielded against me, and I could feel the extent of his fear, the wolf's fear of losing control over his body, Raven's terror of losing control over his mind. He was prey, he was hunted, and I asked him to stop running. Escape from the pain at that cost frightened him more than going on to increasing pain.

"No"

I hesitated. If I had known that the war was ended now for good, that we would be able to stay here in safety until he was fully recovered I would not have pushed him like this. But though we knew the one ring was gone, Sauron was gone, all his servants remained, and they remained in his service. Many of them at least. And if Lorien was not attacked again, then we would have to leave soon. To Imladris. To the havens. How soon? What would happen when the rings failed, failed utterly, spent the last power they yet had? We would have to decide soon. That knowledge drained me more than any unrestricted bond could have.

"You need not take all of this. It need not be four days"

Time passed. How long, I realized only when Raven spoke, and I felt my legs all cramped from kneeling.

"Promise that you stay"

_Carlam_ was a simple but potent thing. If dried and brewed as tea it weakened the shields only. As essence, it was a strong, very strong sleeping draught. Which did not only weaken the shields but completely prevented the drinker from raising or keeping them.

Raven held the cup as if it was poison, eyeing it with a mixture of dread and longing.

The wolf was still with us. She had hunted, brought us her prey, and hopefully nudged the dead hare towards Raven. He had to push it back to her several times before she gave in and took it outside to eat her catch herself.

"Don't send her away"

"Oh Raven" I held him in my arms, trying to pull him closer without upsetting his cup "Of course I won't send her away"

After a while he raised the cup to his lips and drained it.

"So" he said, setting the cup down a little shakily.

"Yes" I said "It won't take long"

The _carlam_ took effect quickly, all the more since he was already weakened. His breath grew rapid and shallow as he struggled to remain conscious "Don't fight it" I pleaded "Raven, please, don't. I am here, I will stay here"

He nodded, once, but he couldn't just let go. He had not hesitated a second giving absolute control to me a short time ago. But this was a potion, something he did not know, could neither see nor fight effectively. He struggled against its pull, and it was a long while until it had finally wrestled him into sleep. I did not stir even as the light of dawn grew grey and then bright outside the hut. I felt as if I had betrayed his trust, and found I could not let him go now. I moved us both towards the wall so I could lean back against the boards. The bright dawn was quickly overcast and rain began to fall. I was cold, but dared not move unless I broke the tenuous hold sleep now had on Raven. After a while, the wolf came out of her dark corner, eyeing us uncertainly before she lay down beside me, cutting off the cool stream of air that came in through a hole in the wall. Her warm breath puffed across my hands.

Around afternoon I could no longer slump against the wall. I moved gingerly to lie down beside Raven, and fell asleep quickly. When I woke, it was late evening. I had slept the whole night and nearly all of the day and felt refreshed. Twisting, I tried to reach the water-flask but couldn't get to it. The wolf watched me with mild interest until I realized I could mind-speak her as I had before. She got up and took the leather-thong in her fangs, swinging the flask towards me with an amused look. On the dirt floor were several shallow dells where she lain the past hours. She now lay down alongside Raven and turned a burning glance on me. It took a moment until I got her meaning. I got up slowly and stretched. I could leave the hut for a while.

I built up a fire when I came back from the river, and lay down beside Raven again. The drizzle had hardened into rain. The wolf stretched nonchalantly, yawned, and left with the springy gait of a wolf going to hunt, vanishing into the misty weather. I had no reason to keep awake and so went back to sleep, catching up on all the nights I had missed the past weeks.

On the evening of the second day the effect of _carlam_ started to wear off. I woke when Raven stirred, and rolled over, holding him tight so he knew he was not alone. I was glad I had changed the bandages early this morning and not waited until evening as usual. At least the wound had healed considerably in the brief time. The raw flesh had crusted over, and it was no longer inflamed. It would cause him much less pain now. As soon as Raven could, he started to fight sleep. Still it took was after midnight until he managed to shake the potion's hold off wholly. I helped him to sit up "Thirsty?"

Raven nodded, and quickly drained a whole water-flask I handed to him.

"Hungry?"

He shook his head reflexively. I went over to the fire. One of the Ashi'kha had brought a small kettle with a kind of sweet stew this afternoon. It looked like oats, but was made from some grain I did not know. I had not been able to find out what it was yet. It tasted very good, though - there were roasted nuts, almonds and dried berries in there as well as apples, and the spicy smell of cinnamon rose from the pot as soon as I lifted the lid. I held a bowl of it under Raven's nose "Are you sure?"

He stared at me in baffled surprise "Where- where did you get that from?" he asked, his voice rough with disuse.

"One of your people brought it today. You know it?"

Raven nodded, looking almost wistful for an unguarded moment "_Khanshe hr sa_" he said "A bit different though. That's what we always have in winter. Since father brought his fire with him, that is. It is hard to come by the – the-" he groped for the word.

"Cinnamon?"

"Cimn – Cimma -. Yes"

I laughed, and Raven smiled weakly. He took a cautious spoonful, and then slowly emptied the bowl, always hesitating as if he feared it would immediately make him sick again. It didn't, and I managed to talk him into eating another bowl near midnight.

"How…long?" It was the first word he had spoken after our initial exchange tonight.

"Two days"

He looked down and fell silent again. The wolf lay curled up in her corner once more, occasionally gnawing a huge bone she had brought from her last hunt. She was slowly breaking it into bits and licking the marrow from the splinters.

"How do you feel?"

Raven hesitated "I'm still tired"

"Sleep again"

He looked at me as if I were kidding, then stared past the flames once more "Maybe"

I watched his face. He looked drawn, but no longer hunted. There was a strange sadness to him suddenly, as if he had lost some kind of hope he had had before.

"What about you?" he said suddenly, becoming aware of my scrutiny and instantly alert.

"Oh. I am fine" I had to smile at his sudden shift to suspicion, and my own stupid answer. Raven looked at me long, thoughtfully.

"Thank you for staying" he said finally.

I nodded, but there was nothing I could say. Nothing I needed to say.

"She was there, too"

Raven nodded again "Yes. I know"

He leaned against me for a while, then lay down and put his head in my lap, closing his eyes. I stroked his long, tangled hair, unable to say what went on in him. He fell deeply asleep after some time.

The cold but clear dawn heralded a warm day of spring. Raven woke in the early morning, and we went slowly down to the Silverlode once more. Here it flowed lazy and broad between its green banks, near the joining with the Anduin. To the right was a small bay, an inward curve of the bank, where simple boats were moored. We bathed, and after the cold water even the half-shade under the trees seemed pleasantly warm. Sunlight dappled the ground, and a few first leaves had dared to open. We did not speak at all. Raven had never said that much before, but today he was so quiet I dared not even address him. He was half-asleep anyway. Around noon one of the Ashi'kha joined us. Unfurred I had never seen him, and had to ask for his name. "Sakar'niyan" he said in soft hiss, and I remembered the black wolf who had told us where to find breakfast one morning.

"I am your guide to food again" he said cheerfully, eyeing the boats avidly "There is a glade upstream, and they have bread and meat there. Can you use such a…a thing?" Ashi'kha had no words for boat.

"It is very long ago since I last did" I said cautiously, stumbling over the sharp Ashi'kha sounds now that I had to speak to someone other than Raven "If you want to go somewhere in this, better ask Hador over there"

"Ah, but you know what to do?" Sakar'niyan grinned. He spoke very little Quenya, but that did not prevent him from bounding up to the boats-man and making known what he wanted with hands and feet when I nodded. I saved him from a longer performance, and a short while later we all climbed into the grey boat. We nearly upset it right there, and pushing out into the river rowed in every direction except where we wanted to go, wheeled in midstream, and made little headway in general. Moving stiffly and painfully Raven could not join in the rowing and instead sat in the stern, clutching the sides of the swinging craft and sometimes adding a snide comment. After a while, I became confident enough again in handling the boat that I could instruct Sakar'niyan a little, giving the oars to him. The Ashi'kha flailed about a bit with them, but he got the knack quickly. We still had a good laugh until we finally reached the small glade and bumped into the smooth, sandy bank there. Sakar'niyan unceremoniously stuck an oar into the soft sand to keep the boat in place until I had made it fast to a thin tree. As he had promised, there were three other Ashi'kha there, with small baskets of food between them. He got up in the boat waving and shouted something at them, a moment Raven used to set the boat to swaying and sending him into the water with an almighty splash. Sakar'niyan swore terrible revenge, but decided to postpone it to after he had dried and eaten and preferably to when he could extract some fun out of his chosen victim again. Raven grinned but winced as he climbed out of the boat, catching himself against the tree it was tied to. He waved me on, and I obeyed reluctantly, knowing how badly he took fussing.

Of the three Ashi'kha here I had only seen one unfurred briefly. I had learned how jealously they sometimes guarded their names, and that it was great honour to be told any name in the clan's language. The group that had come to Imladris had always used the Quenya translations of their Ashi'kha names. These three quietly introduced themselves to me as we sat down, and I repeated their names until I had the inflection right. That caused another round of laughter when they told me what this or that pronunciation would mean.

"We know your name, though. Gil'dor, yes?" As Raven did, he pronounced it Kil'thor. I nodded "That is what I have always been called"

"But what do you call yourself?" Shand'rel asked. The question puzzled me for moment, and I looked at her for a clue how to understand it. She could also have said 'What names have you' or 'Who calls you'.

"Nokashi" Raven said into the silence. He stood in the shade surrounding the glade, leaning against one of the young aspens. We had not heard him coming "Kil'tor. She asks, what is your name"

"Ah" I said carefully "I thought the reference was to…a special time. Of naming, that is. Take your pick, Shand'rel. I am Nokashi as much as Kil'tor"

"Are there news?" Lai'ashi, who had been silent up to now asked "How did the lands fare we crossed?" All the other Ashi'kha I had seen so far wore their hair long. Hers was cut short about her shoulders as a sign of mourning now. Mala'shech's mate then.

"I do not know" I said carefully "There was word that it is over, the war. Word from places we have allies, but nothing detailed. The great enemy has been defeated, though what his troops will do, we do not know. And I don't know of the farther regions. Of your homeland"

"We have no homeland" Raven said abruptly into the following silence. He spoke softly, but with harshness in his voice.

"You called Dark Mountain your home" I said. When all looked at him, he dropped his gaze "I spoke only for myself" he said "I called it home because I remember the time there as good. I have no memories of another place and we cannot return to the Ice. I could not name that. And there is no other word in Quenya for what I meant"

"What _did _you mean?"

Raven frowned "_Khan un-pelo'fah maiar_"

"It is right, in a way" Shand'rel said slowly "Dark Mountain is a good land. It would be hard to let it go. The summers are rich at the ever-moving, and the hot springs in winter…A good place. Safe. But we had other places before, and we will not be able to keep Dark Mountain forever. Would you really wish to return to the Ice?"

Raven stared at his apple "For the land, yes. For the memory, no"

Raven had never spoken about those early years. All I knew was that he had been born there, in the Eversnows. That he would not have left but for all the clan moving back. He had still been a child then, so he could not have stayed behind there on his own. Maybe. I was careful making assumptions about anything Ashi'kha. But obviously, just as I thought of the West as a desirable place only as it had been, as I remembered it, Raven considered the Eversnows as such a past.

"What means…_khan un-pelo'fah maiar_?" I asked after a moment. Raven did not answer, but Sakar'niyan looked up "Shining in my heart" he said in Quenya, gesturing "Memory, yes. Of things. Places. People"

"Shining, when all your ancient words refer to the shadows of night?" I asked with a slight smile.

"But the dark before the night-eaters came was starlit" Sakar'niyan said, returning the smile "_Akh_, _Han_ and _Ir_. Did not Raven tell you the difference?"

"Maybe he did and I forgot" I said, unwilling to let Raven get the shorter end in this bargain. Maybe Sakar'niyan was asking in good faith, maybe he was teasing, but I knew it was this kind of teasing Raven never took kindly to.

"I did not" Raven interrupted coolly "He has learned the common code in shorter time than you took for a few words Quenya, Sakar'niyan. You better leave the ritual shadings out of your judgement"

Sakar'niyan laughed good-naturedly "He has and I will. But I speak the ritual words better than Quenya, and I know this: _Akh_ is an old word. It means the starlight before the night-eaters, the darkness between the stars, blackness. _Han_ is the night that precedes day and follows it. It is a new word. _Ir_ is like _han_, but it is also the night that the sun eats. _Akh_ became _ir_ after the brightnesses rose. _Kusak_ means the dark of an overcast sky, and _koth'shina_ is the dark of the one you call the Enemy. We love the stars, too, you know, though they were simply places of un-blackness at first, to us. But that is why we say memory shines. And now you eat something, or you will be memory also, soon" He shoved a wooden platter with cold meat under my nose.

"When do you give names?" Lai'ashi asked me after a while "Do you have special times for naming?"

"Children are named right after birth. But we have times when we usually do not name" I said "Midwinter. Midsummer. And days of no moon"

The Ashi'kha exchanged glances.

"Oh" Raven said, smiling wryly.

I looked at him "Oh?"

"That is exactly the days _we _have for…naming and festivals. Except midsummer"

I had to laugh "I guess I asked for that. But why nights of no moon? You said once it was…" I faltered, not knowing how to say it in Ashi'kha since Raven had told the tale in Quenya. But he nodded anyway "The story of the moon being called wolf's eye. There are times when the wolf does not look at the world he has made, and we do not see his eye. That story was made after the night-eaters came, when we had learned to use the moon's light to our advantage. But naming follows the ancient rules – nights of no moon are like the starlit dark. It is older and it is still there when the moon is not. That is why names are given then. _Vach_'_khan_ names"

"_H'tanar-ilai vach Onakir h'te_?" Shand'rel said softly, questioningly "_Khai'nochara a Khaniru a_ _rel_?"

Raven looked at her, frowning "_N'har_ _toh skree. E toh khai_"

His reply was soft, but there was the edge of sharpness there again I had not heard before. There was more to it than simple anger. Shand'rel lowered her gaze for a moment, then nodded. They had spoken the ritual code, and I could not say what the exchange had been about. Raven did not explain, and I did not ask. We sat in silence for a while "What will you do now?" I asked "When the war is over, how will you get home?"

Sakar'niyan laughed "As we came. On foot"

Shand'rel snarled softly at him "Fool. We first come with you, back to…_Imlat-ris_, you say? From there then, we go as one pack"

But we did not get a chance to go back to the valley. A harassed messenger came running at a trot, Faire trailing him, saddled and armoured once more "Gildor, Celeborn wants you. We could not find you by the hut, so his force is already prepared for marching"

"Marching?" I asked blankly "Where?"

The messenger looked at me as if he couldn't believe his ears "On Dol Guldur? It is time that festering nest is razed. You are to ride with them. They need you. Come with me now"

"I cannot" I said, shocked. The elf looked perplexed, then desperate. He had no right to order me, but could not disregard a direct order from Celeborn. My bond to Raven was still dependent on physical closeness. But I could hardly say that, could I?

"I come with you" Raven got up carefully "You must go"

Maybe he was right. And I desperately wanted to go. A thousand objections and doubts whirled through my mind for a moment "Horses?"

The messenger shook his head regretfully "None to spare"

I swore and glanced at Raven. There was nothing for it. I had to go, I could and would not leave him, so I had to take him.

"Then Celeborn must wait at least until we have dressed" I helped Raven to mount Faire, got up behind him.

"Meet him at the edge of the eastern march" the messenger said, relieved "I will carry word that you are coming"

"Say, too, that some of the Ashi'kha and wolves will come" I added, knowing Raven would already have relayed to his people. They, too, were on their feet and some had already changed and gone off to alert their pack-mates. Faire quickly carried us back to the hut, where I managed to get my armour on in half the time I usually needed while Raven tied one pack for both of us and fastened it to Faire's saddle. I stuffed a supply of bandages into it as well.

"You wear that" I held the light silvan armour out to him I had scrounged earlier in the expectation he might fight unfurred. He had, but always refused to wear the armour.

"Don't be silly" he made to mount Faire. I pulled him around and pushed him back against the hut "You wear that or you stay"

Maybe my anger gave me just enough to authority to order him or he was just too weary to resist. He gave me furious glance, but let me strap the leather-protections on him after I had got him into a softer tunic. The wolves were already there when we came to the eastern march. Of the few horses that had been in Lorien only half had survived the attacks. Celeborn was mounted this time, obviously to honour the occasion. Startled, I saw Galadriel on her own horse beside him, wearing light armour of Noldorin make which had been adapted to the Silvan style. This appeared to be the most impressive host Lorien would ever send out again. I bit my lip and cut the thought of. Celeborn nodded briefly when he saw us, and then the ranks already started moving.

I dismounted to walk beside Faire as we fell into step with the marching host. No need to burden her with us both until we had to. In moments, the Ashi'kha and the wolves had arrayed themselves to trail behind us. Though the One Ring was destroyed and the inhabitants of the fortress bound to be in fatal disorder, it felt strange and unsettling to think we were marching on Dol Guldur. I would have felt considerably better and more in the mood for attack knowing Raven was able to fight on his own. I glanced at him on Faire's back, staring uncomfortably ahead over the marching elves. At least he had taken up the reins I had given to him. Though I had taught him combat-riding on Faire and she often carried him when we travelled or rode in the valley he generally refused to ride her into fights. I wondered what bothered him most, that he was forced to ride or that he would be unable to fight at all.

With the swift pace we held we reached the river by late afternoon. There boats and a raft for the horses awaited us, and before dusk the whole host had been ferried across. Outriders were sent onwards, but we did not enter the forest in the night. We set up camp and ringed it with guards, and then waited for the dawn. Though it was early spring and the day had been warm, the night was bitter cold and dense fog gathered on the ground. Raven slept through the whole rest nevertheless. Before dawn we marched on towards the forest and at the first light of day reached the eaves of Mirkwood. Our outriders had reported a disordered guard on the fortress, but also quarrels of different severity among its inhabitants. Celeborn reordered his forces, let torches be lit, and we entered the forest quickly and marched straight for Dol Guldur. The dark forest itself seemed to suck in its breath as we came. I saw furtive motions and an occasional gleam of facetted eyes following our progress, but nothing attacked and things scuttled away from our path. As we neared our destination the ground began to rise slightly, and the lingering darkness increased. I felt uncomfortably reminded of the spiders' valley I had crossed centuries ago. A changewolf came running along the ranks before us, fixing its glance on me 'To the front you go. She says so'

'She' meaning Galadriel, undoubtedly. With a frown I got up behind Raven 'What about you furred ones?'

The wolf flicked her ears 'We come as we think fit. You attack first'

"What about you?" I asked Raven, who sat stiffly on Faire's back, keeping his breath carefully controlled. By now, I assumed he must be in agony, but he just shook his head "I am ready to ride"

Faire trotted past the marching elves towards Celeborn and Galadriel riding at the front. She motioned to us as we came up "Ride with us"

For a while the three of us rode side by side. I glanced at her finally "Do we have a plan except to charge and kill them all?"

She smiled "I will leave the fighting to you. My business is with stones and spells. But no – charge and kill them all will be enough"

"We must be near n-" I began, then broke off. In the dimness in front of us a greater blackness rose. A terrible feeling seized me, and I tried to clamp down on it. There were two choices, that feeling told me. To run and never return, or to charge into whatever awaited there. Then Galadriel raised her hand, and the feeling passed. There was a terrified, shrill cry somewhere ahead, falling dead in the dark silence of the forest. The host had halted. On the hill and the twisted and partly crumbled stone-structures orcs and a few spiders crawled, vaguely remindful of confused ants hastening over their destroyed hill.

"Our victory is certain" Galadriel said softly "Ride for it"

Celeborn turned, drawing his sword "Longbows, fan out. Archers and left flank to me. Right flank, follow Gildor"

I twisted in Faire's saddle, staring at him, torn between anger and shock. He returned my gaze coolly and ordered "Attack!"

Celeborn rode on, and the left flank broke away from the main host behind him. I could feel Raven brace himself as I drew my own blade and tightened my hold on him. He held the reins but for the most part Faire would do her own steering. I took a breath. Very well then.

"Right flank, forward!" I glanced back briefly, and saw Galadriel calmly sitting her horse as the two sides of the Silvan host split around her and attacked. In the gloom her grey-green armour and white cape seemed to be glowing.

"Hold tight" I warned Raven in front of me "I might be clinging to you"

And then we charged up the final rise and right into the orcs and spiders. Very few actually fought back. The spiders had the most sense – they scrabbled up and along the walls, making for the safety of the forest. Where the longbows and part of the archers awaited them. I could hear Celeborn shouting for them and the whiz of arrows. With the heavily armoured Faire in the lead my part of the host drove a wedge right up to the black, damp gleaming walls of Dol Guldur. From there we fanned out around the base, slaying as we went. Archers came up and climbed the broken walls of what seemed to have been an older bulwark around the fortress, picking off spiders that scuttled for the trees and orcs that suddenly came pouring out of the hidden holes and entries. It was leisurely killing, but harder to do when riding pillion and therefore without stirrups.

"Set me down" Raven gasped when we passed near the walls "Give me your bow and set me down with the archers there"

I bit my lip but obeyed, bringing Faire close to the ramparts where a line of archers had taken position. The ledge was wide enough to stand comfortably on, and the high wall behind them had no openings. One of the elves knelt and pulled Raven up to the ledge which was higher than Faire's back. I passed my bow and quiver to him and seated myself in Faire's saddle. This was fighting as I wished it. Faire charged down groups of orcs recklessly, and as they stumbled back from her I could swing my blade easily down on them. This was like nothing I had ever experienced. The orcs dealt out their share of strikes which did not lack in force or aim, but they seemed more confused by our directed attack than angered. The wounds I received I deserved for my own stupidity, underestimating the one or other orc. The ferocious hate and purpose was gone out of them. Almost it was hard to believe that these were the same creatures we had fought so bitterly the past weeks. The wolves wrought incredible havoc here, killing just as much as the Lorien elves. A veritable panic arose when the pack selected and surrounded various groups and closed in as on wounded prey. Some archers actually drove orcs and spiders back into the slaughter around the ramparts as these tried to flee. I could not see where Galadriel had gone, but suddenly there came a terrible, rumbling sound that seemed to shake the very ground. There were startled howls from the wolves, then they reformed to a signal none of us had heard. A ragged horde of werewolves came around the foot of the fortress, their tongues lolling. For a second they, too, seemed startled, milled, but the confusion of the orcs had obviously not affected them so completely. Some orcs appeared to take hope at seeing the pack, jeering. The wolves and Ashi'kha clashed with them first, but when I charged into the pack with Faire other elves waded in, too. I prayed in the wild fray no one would mistake one of our wolves for the enemy. For a second, I met the wild eyes of one of the werewolves as he twisted away from the jaws of a changewolf. I had my blade at just the right angle, but an incomprehensible impulse suddenly froze me. Faire tripped in the milling and went down on her haunches for a moment. The wolf leaped, higher and farther than I had expected, and flung me off Faire's back even as she got to her feet again. I heard the wolf growl, and rank fur filled my vision and nose. I jerked one arm up to protect my throat and the wolf's jaws closed over the metal. Chain-mail alone would have left me with a torn arm and perhaps broken bone, but even now the strength in the wolf's jaws made for a painful bruise. Unable to turn my blade to strike I drove the hilt of my sword into the sensitive spot between the wolf's elbow and his ribcage. Bones cracked and the wolf gave a grunting yelp without loosening his hold. And still the wildly beautiful, hate-filled eyes bored into mine. _Kill_ _it, you idiot_, a voice in my mind screamed. An arrow thudded deep into the wolf's flank, followed by a second. Blood bubbled from the wolf's nostrils and the grip on my arm slackened. I shook the creature off and ended the struggle with a swipe of my sword, looking around for the archer. Raven gave a brief nod, sketching a salute. And then it was over suddenly. Faire whirled, snorting, and we stood looking around for more enemies. There were none, only the retching of a few unlucky survivors. The elves moved around quickly to finish these. I stared at the dead werewolf for a moment, feeling my arm throb.

"Faire"

She followed me to the foot of the black fortress where Raven stood on the parapet. He sat down with a groan and gave me strange look.

"Successful?" I pointed to the near empty quiver.

"Look around. You will find my kills easily" Raven smiled wearily "I had not realized you fletched your arrows black by now"

I shrugged slightly "Thank you for…that"

He glanced at the wolf, then at me, then only nodded.

"Have you seen Galadriel? Celeborn?"

"She – inside. He – coming"

I turned to follow his glance and indeed Celeborn, his armour blood-spattered and a little dented, strode towards us, leading his horse.

"Gildor, take a troop and scour the forest around. The longbows report that quite a number slipped through their ranks"

He gave the reins of his horse to me and looked up at Raven, giving a curt nod.

"Where are you going?" I asked, swinging the horses reins back over its head.

Celeborn turned slightly "Galadriel" he gestured at the looming fortress "Inside work. The forest is yours"

I smiled briefly, finding I did not have to adjust Celeborn's stirrups to my height "Ready to ride again, Raven?"

He nodded mutely, climbing carefully from the ledge directly into Faire's saddle. I held the stirrup for him and he grimaced "You shouldn't do that, you know?"

I grinned "Just stay up there and leave the fighting to Faire"

Scouring the forest proved as much a rout as the previous battle had been. We fanned out and moved in a line as if staging a battue, carrying torches. The wolves flanked us at the furthest points because they were the swiftest. Ivornen led a similar line to move towards us, enclosing whatever we netted in a shrinking space. Between spears, archers and swords nothing with two, four or eight legs was left alive. I was not so sure about killing the spiders. Sure, they were certainly not on our side, but neither had they been on Dol Guldur's. As far as I was informed, even Thranduil's main feud was not with the eight-legs but the orcs and wolves. At least we _tried_ to give the Ashi'kha chances to get hold on the few remaining werewolves. But neither was I sure how far Raven's theory about possessed wolves and wargs bred into the Shadow's service held true. The werewolves of Dol Guldur did not strike me as the wolves we had found in Imladris some time ago. There was a darker malice to them, more of understanding to what they did-. But as in the case of the spiders there was no time to ponder, ask advice, or risk mercy where it might be grievously misplaced.

I could not say if it was day still or night already, but by the time we returned to Dol Guldur proper for further orders Raven was nearly dead on Faire's back, and the rest of us looked little better. We lit fires all around the fortress, proclaiming our victory and the return of light to Mirkwood. Those who had not combed the forest with us had piled the dead orcs and spiders some distance from the fortress and set the pyre ablaze with oil and torches right away. It made a great stench and reek, and luckily the wind did not turn to drive the fetid smoke towards us. We set up a makeshift camp and saw to the wounded, taking stock of our forces. None of the Silvan elves had been killed in this, though several were wounded. Two wolves had been killed, and two Ashi'kha hurt severely. At least neither of them would die, the healers assured me, but still I went to check on them.

Shand'rel, still in wolf-form, limped towards me when I approached the pack.

'No worry. Sleeps, Lai'ashi'

She, too, was still wolf. I could not see what had actually happened, but most of her fur was sticky with drying blood.

'What did she do?' I asked, passing my hand over the bloody fur.

Shand'rel shook herself so that her ears flapped, then flattened them to her skull briefly 'Revenge. Mala'shech. Well done'

'I see' I said wryly 'Will she object to mind-healing?'

'Asleep' Shand'rel objected, puzzled. I smiled wearily 'That changes very little for me. I can reach her anyway. But I know your people can have violent reactions'

'No. No…risk'

I was glad when I realized Lai'ashi did not have the impenetrable shields I was used from Raven. I did not even have to truly touch her mind to use healing-powers.

'And you?'

Shand'rel flared her ruff briefly and bared her fangs 'Survive, I will. Saka'nor heals, too. But not when you asleep. Go back to Raven now'

I obeyed, relieved, and slowly walked back around the fortress. Raven had gathered no further injuries but paid for the day with a freshly bleeding spear-wound. He was so tired he did not even flinch when I changed the binding and carefully added some of the numbing salve Galadriel had given us. I dared not take off my own armour, but finally found time to remove my arm-brace and look at the marks of the werewolf's teeth. They had left dents in the metal and driven the chain-mail through the thin sleeve of my tunic and into the flesh. I shook my head at my own foolishness. I had fought with Raven often enough. He had taught me how to kill a wolf quickly. Why had I not used that knowledge? Because that wolf had looked at me? I should be used to killing eye to eye by now, shouldn't I?

I swore softly and replaced my armour. No wounds serious enough I would bother with them now. Raven was not asleep and watched me thoughtfully.

"They want to start tomorrow, hunting through the forest" he said softly.

I nodded "Faire will carry you"

"No" Raven said slowly "I will stay here. I am more use as guard at the moment. And this is…your part. And Faire's. You have been there from the beginning. It is your right to…have a part in its end. And you take the sword" He pushed Thorn towards me.

"That is your blade, Raven"

"I don't think that keeps you from using it"

I looked at him sharply, but he did not turn away this time. I desperately wanted him to ride with me tomorrow on this final hunt. I knew it was not possible, and had to admit that for once he had more sense than I in deciding to stay before I had to tell him to. Easier for both of us. But even if he would be comparatively save staying with the guards here I would rather know the blade with him.

"You" Raven said quietly "may actually need it more than I. Leave me yours if you want, but _take this_"

"Maybe you are right" I said finally "But I will not decline the offer of such a mighty blade anyway. Thank you, Raven"

Though the black, looming walls of the fortress cast a shadow over us I fell asleep a little while after I had lain down beside Raven. Whatever Celeborn planned and when his host was to meet Thranduil's forces marching from the northern forest, it would wait until we had slept a few hours.

When the waking call came, Raven and I saddled Faire and attached part of the extended armour again. Once more, Celeborn assigned the sword-fighters to me. I mounted, and found Raven holding the stirrup, grinning a little.

"_Mara raime, rá-in-erume_" he said in Quenya. I looked down at him uncertainly. It felt strange riding off without him. The sword that had once been called Anguirel was a heavy but somehow comforting weight in the sheath on my back. I returned his grin after a moment "_H'malar shech skuyash, ashu_" I said in Ashi'kha.

Chapter Notes:

Carlam: (S) red-tongue

Other Wind: Right, an expression borrowed from Ursula K. LeGuin's wonderful Earthsea-book _The Other Wind. _I used it to refer to the Ashi'kha Hawk, though.

Lai'ashi: star-wolf

_H'tanar-ilai vach Onakir h'te: _Will you take the power Onakir wishes you to?

_N'har_ _toh __skree. E toh khai: _I am a raven. Not a hawk.

_Khanshe hr sa_: 'cooked' (lit. bound by fire)

_Mara raime, rá-in-erume_: Q (hopefully): "Good hunting, lion of the desert"

_H'malar shech skuyash, ashu_: lit: "(you) guard the lair well, wolf"


	58. Chapter 58 Minas Tirith

**Minas Tirith**

Lorien / Minas Tirith, May – June TA 3019

Gildor's POV

Spring was well under way when Elrond and Arwen arrived in Lorien. They had ridden leisurely, keeping an eye on the countryside as well as enjoying the fair weather. Raven and I had stayed in our hut after our return from Mirkwood, refitting the broken and burnt boards so that it once more made a comfortable shelter. The day when word spread that the lord of Imladris and his daughter were approaching the borders most Silvan Elves made for Caras Galadhon for their arrival and the feast of victory. Raven had gone off to tell the Ashi'kha, but when he returned he carried a large bundle of fur which he held out to me wordlessly. I took it slowly. It was the finely tanned skin of the great werewolf that had attacked me at Dol Guldur, cleaned, brushed and carefully cut and sewn to make a cape such as the Ashi'kha sometimes wore it. Pieces of fur had been added to it so that the head could be used as hood, and the forelegs had been underlain with leather to serve as fasteners. In the middle of them sat a badge of leather, bearing the design I had chosen for my banner. Raven gave a satisfied nod and turned to go out of the hut.

"What about this?" I held him back.

"That's yours" he said "What did you think I spent my time with while you were off chasing through Mirkwood with the rest?"

"You killed that wolf" I said "Before it killed me"

"It is yours" Raven made a brief slashing motion, the Ashi'kha gesture to say 'end'

"Keep it"

So I did, puzzled and pleased at the same time. It was a great gift, both for Ashi'kha standards and for me. Even more since Raven had made it himself. I faced a small dilemma deciding what to wear that night, elven livery or Ashi'kha furs. In the end the decision was easy and I borrowed a loincloth from Raven and wrapped the wolf-skin around my shoulders. The day was warm but in the cool night that cape served me very well. Elrond and Arwen had not come alone. The Imladris-pack had come with them and the Ashi'kha feast merged with that of Lorien. A large fire burned at the foot of the city's hill, but the roaring blaze did not keep the Ashi'kha from performing a huge dance that was done partly with, partly without spears. Raven said it was called Bear-dance, and usually done when a particularly dangerous hunt or battle was expected or a successful one had been finished. This time, they danced as they would have done alone with their clan, without consideration for tender elven eyes. The Rivendell-pack had come as wolves anyway and changed only for the dancing. The Bear dancers painted extensively, wearing broad, spiralling whorls rather than the intricate symbols I had seen up to now. But after the great Bear dance small groups formed for an extended Raven dance. Raven gave me swift glance. I hesitated, but then I got up decisively. We both lived, and since we had not ridden together on the final stage this would be our dance at least. Once more Raven drew the different patterns on my skin, then directed me what symbols to paint on him. He was still weakened and we could not dance for very long, but since the dance was carried on with several groups it was possible to drop out and join in again as we wished.

Some time that night Elrond took me aside "I want you to come with us to Minas Tirith"

"I don't think that is wise" I said, baffled at the request.

"Bah"

"Bah? I won't go without Raven. And he can't walk all that way yet"

Elrond smiled wryly "I know you won't and he can't. You see that horse?" I followed his direction. There was a deeper darkness among the shadows where our horses grazed leisurely. I blinked "Rochan?"

"That was Saelbeth's idea and Arwen's ploy. I brought that monster all over the Caradhras because they said Raven can ride him"

I hesitated "Minas Tirith is awfully far away on a horse you don't really know. And there will be men. No one can control him then, least of all Raven"

Elrond shrugged "But when he rode the horse in the valley, it passed the Dunedain by without a glance"

"He did" I stared at the huge, black shape uncomfortably "Before we stay behind, we will try. But if the beast stamps Raven into ground, he will walk as wolf. I will have to acquire a hunting dog for a while, Elrond"

He actually laughed "That would be an interesting masquerade. But yes, before you stay behind, better indeed acquire a very wolvish dog"

Raven and I fetched Rochan the next day and slung the bridle over his head. Raven could not mind-speak him as I could with Faire and so he had to ride him blind, steering with reins and heels. The huge black horse seemed completely unaffected by the change of location, and as we rode the horses in a wide arc to the western border and back along the Silverlode I found the idea increasingly intriguing. A few days later we started on our way to Rohan and on Minas Tirith in a small group. Partly it was an incredibly pleasant journey, partly it was nearly unbearable. Thinking to heed the wolf, I concentrated on the nice things. It was both funny and very satisfactory, a curious irony, that a Mordor-raised horse carried one of us to the feast of the ultimate victory over the morgul-lord. A more pleasant irony, I thought, was that Raven with his predilection for black and cautiousness of horses had the most impressive mount of the whole train. And the most placid. The horse they had called Rochan had changed, in so far that he seemed to care a little what happened around or to him, but things that had the other horses shy and dance passed him by completely. And so did the eventual presence of men. Apparently the combination of men and closed quarters was what had regularly and effectively driven him mad. So in Rohan we left him out in the meadows, and while we travelled did not tie him with the other mortal horses when we camped. The elf-horses kept an eye on him, and he never strayed, but since he did not listen to the name he had been given either, Raven always had to walk to fetch him.

Before we came into sight of the city the Ashi'kha and their wolves took leave of us. They would not enter Minas Tirith, and it would have posed certain difficulties to explain the presence of the more than thirty wild wolves the Ashi'kha would not have left behind outside the walls. I experienced a feeling of dividedness so strong that it was almost painful. Whether our bond let me share Raven's own doubts or it was just my own, it was not important. As much as I wished to ride into that city with Elrond's and Galadriel's people and bring this ancient war to its final, glorious end, I also longed to at last turn my back on all this and go with the Ashi'kha. As strange as they seemed, there were moments my own people seemed stranger. But then we stayed, the Ashi'kha all changed to wolf-form and the great pack of wolves turned aside eastward. Before I could worry Celeborn had sent off some of his riders to accompany the wolves safely to the Anduin and to pass word in Ithilien that they were to cross unmolested there. When we finally rode into Minas Tirith one late afternoon the white city glowed a soft red in the sun's low rays.

For me the days passed in a strange mixture of acting different parts. I was either with the companies from Lorien or Rivendell, or with Raven. Both were elements of my life, but I increasingly felt I was only playing one part while living the other. And it was not the Ashi'kha part I was playing. More than I had been in Rivendell I was now impressed with Raven's ability to quietly blend in. For the men here he was 'one of the elves' anyway, and they did not see little differences that were obvious to our eyes. To a great part, he and I were on equal footing despite that. Raven had never been in or even near a city this large, and since Ost-in-Edhil I, too, had never been again. I was able to extract some amusement out of the nightly gatherings in the great halls and the careful mingling of the men with us, but for Raven the occasions were horror. The wolf had no liking for men, and in addition to keeping that part in check Raven had a hard time avoiding or, if he happened to get caught in one, extracting himself from polite conversations. Most of the time he was discreetly glued to my side, avoiding chances people might approach him alone. We came in one evening after another such congregation. It had been the last before the wedding tomorrow, and consequently more animated and chaotic. I tossed my cloak over a chair that had ended up in the middle of our small room, but the thing slithered off into a heap on the floor. Irritated, I left it there and proceeded to pull off my boots. It was summer and warm, much too warm, for such sort of clothing. Within the city-walls the heat pooled and radiated off the white pavement even after sundown. I flopped down on the bed with a groan and lay flat for a moment. Despite the obvious signs of war the city was wonderful sight, but be that as it may, it was not my choice of living space. Though I managed to keep Gondolin firmly out of my head, a feeling of unease lingered. I sat up and pulled my shirt over my head as well, glad to get rid of the heavily embroidered fabric. Raven had already shed his clothing and taken possession of the washstand beside the open windows.

"I wish they had free-flowing streams for bathing" he said wistfully "But it's all channelled or fancy fountains here"

I glanced at him "How are you doing, bag of bones? This is bit of a larger scale than Imladris"

Raven shrugged, splashing at the tepid water unenthusiastically "Aside from evenings with, how do they say, 'formal dinner', better than expected. The battlements are usually deserted, there is a short-cut down to the plains and the sea, and the Halflings are better companions than most of the Imladris- or Lorien-delegations"  
"The Halflings?" I asked in surprise.

"Merry and Pippin, that is. We did some exploring of the city. It is more fun to get lost all three of us than just me alone"

I grinned "I wouldn't have thought you got lost anywhere"

"In this city, yes" Raven said darkly "No trees, and it's all the same circles, up or down. You go round so often you think it is the sun spinning not your head"

"Where did you find them? The Halflings, I mean?"

"By the river-mouth. They knew you of course, and that obviously made up for acquaintance with me. They are...I don't know…"

"They don't ask questions?"

"They do, a whole damn lot of them. But not in the way…well, not the way your people do" Raven grimaced, and I laughed "I see what you mean"

There was a patter of bare feet outside our room and a smart rap on the door.

"It's open" I said reflexively, sitting up to see who came in. I froze in mid-motion when it was Arwen, wearing a man's nightshirt, one of Aragorn's judging by the make, her hair freed of the day's ceremonial braids. Water dripped gently from Raven's hands, who had also halted halfway over the wash-stand. She kicked the door shut and surveyed the scene before her.

"Well, what happened to you two?" she asked tartly "Have you never seen me before or do you think I have never seen a naked male?"

"Well, thank you for that delicate formulation" Raven said dryly.

I shook off my paralysis and laughed "Most certainly you have. If not before, then now. What are you _doing_ here? I don't think they appreciate the queen of Gondor slinking through the guest-quarters in her nightshirt"

"Oh Gildor" she dropped her composure and ran across the room, stepping over our untidy packs and flying into my arms.

"Uh" I hesitated, but then dismissed convention and held her tight. First of all she was my friend and fellow scout, not Elrond's daughter or prospective queen. And this might be the last time I saw her, let alone held her.

She made a small sound that might have been a snuffle or a laugh "But I am not queen yet…I have come to say farewell properly. I won't be able to talk to you freely or privately after tomorrow. They're all so set on protocol, they are"

"Definitely" I had to grin "Just your coming here alone would be cause for outrage, I suppose"

"I know what I will first teach them when I am queen" she said with a weak smile I could feel rather than see "A bit less stiffness wouldn't make the wings on their helmets droop all of a sudden. But I have come here to say thank you. For all you did for me"

"Arwen-" I tightened my hold on her for a moment "I got you into more trouble than your brothers alone managed, that's what I did"

She laughed "See, that is what I meant. You and Glorfindel talked father into letting me train as a warrior" she sat back a little, and made a small motion "Oh Raven, stay. I am talking to Gildor, but it's for your ears as well"

I could not see Raven, but heard the soft creak of the wooden panels when he hesitated, then turned and came to sit on the other side of the bed.

"I have been to him already. Glorfindel, I mean. Do you remember how mad ada was when we told him we had been sparring and riding with my brothers all the year before? And then that we would hunt orcs?"

"He was livid" I said ruefully "But you know it was a hard time for him then, and it didn't really get better afterwards. The council was probably eating him alive, and then we badgered him with all the mad schemes, and Glorfindel took our side, too…"

"Yes. So that is what I want to say thank you for. And you taught me something more important as well…otherwise I would not be here now, with Estel. Gildor, do as you told me. Don't let anyone tell you it's wrong or unwise. I know ada is at you for it, for the wolf…And Raven, don't you back down from him" she added fiercely "It is the wolf he objects to, not your love for Gildor, though he appears not to make much distinction"

"There is no distinction, Arwen" Raven said softly "It is just that the wolf wears another body at the moment"

"I know!" Arwen reached around me and took Raven's hand "But that is what my father does not see. Or does not want to see yet. But he will see that just as he understood Aragorn was no fancy of mine. So…I won't be seeing you again like this. It will be all busy and nosy people after tomorrow…Promise me you'll enjoy the days as much as I will"

I swallowed. A casual statement that held a whole world of change. The days were counted for all of us, but for her especially now, in a much darker sense. It was a fact I had never fully acknowledged until now. That was what my counsel to her had led to. Was it good or bad? I could not say.

"You know the wolf can enjoy everyday easily. I…will go along with him" Raven said after while when I remained silent. I could find no better answer so I just I nodded "I will follow him as well. So far, he has led me well"

"Good" she let go of us "I want you to walk with the others tomorrow. Both of you. Will you?"

Startled, Raven and I exchanged an uncomfortable look "Elrond said nothing to us. Neither did Aragorn"

Arwen's eyes flashed "You think I now start depending on someone else's judgement?" Then she laughed "Of course I have talked to Aragorn. And, believe me, I respect father but in this my say simply overrules him"

I took a breath "Arwen, if you ask us, we will. But we would be very stupid to start you out with a scandal right away"

"Well, first of all _you _have every right and reason to be up there with us. And second, as your companion so has Raven. But I will have my friends there, whether they are a comfortable sight to Minas Tirith or not. Raven?"

"I care little what they might think or say. But as Gildor said, it is not our right or intention to get you into conflict or disgrace or whatever they might think fit"

"Good. Then it is settled. They won't recognize an Ashi'kha if he bites their ass"

Raven gave a small smile "Don't worry, I won't look very much Ashi'kha. At least not enough to set them pointing"

"A pity" Arwen smiled and got up slowly, straightening.

"Look, now that you're here, will you eat with us?" I asked "I…am not good at this farewell stuff"

"Your last chance at simple fare" Raven added wryly, gesturing to our tray with cold and smoked meat, cheese, bread and fruit "Formal dinner seems just another way to say 'stay hungry'"

Arwen nodded "I fear it is. And I am not good at this either. Oh you have mead. I wonder what Aragorn would say if I drunk myself silly tonight"

"You'd be sober again tomorrow" I said dryly "You drunk your brothers and me under the table after our first patrol together. And come sunrise you were up and about for a ride"

"Did I?" Arwen shoved our packs back against the bed and stood the whole tray in the middle of the mattresses "Well, I won't try it on Estel. I think he can best either of us in drinking. Though I won't swear he'd be sober next morning"

"Won't he miss you tonight?" I asked carefully.

"Well, it's hardly past sun-down yet. And he knows where I am. I have my own friends to say goodbye to"

"Probably. Well then, my queen, share out the mead"

Galadriel's POV

I watched the elves, men and Halflings gathered in the great hall tonight. There was a wide variety of songs, jokes and performances, and a diffuse joy permeated the place. The only ones who looked out of place here were Gimli and Raven. In the dwarf's case it was only looks, I assumed, smiling. He was having the time of his life otherwise. If one thing did not plague him it was shyness. And the only ones absent yet were Gildor, Aragorn and Arwen. Whatever they had to say, assumed it was not for my ears, so I let the thought drop. Raven kept a place a little outside the laughing and cheering crowd, so obviously trying not to melt into the shadows under the balcony as I knew he longed to do. I left Celeborn with a group of Lorien and Rivendell elves and slowly made my way through the crowd to Raven. He had recovered remarkably in the few moons since the last attack, enough that no one who had not known him before could see the occasional stiffness in his motions. As Gildor had said with a small smile Raven was careful to look as little strange as possible. At the moment he wore a wide, flowing gown of black cloth, embroidered with intricate silver patterns, and I knew very well the long sleeves were there to cover his tribal tattoos. If he bothered to comb it, his truly raven-black hair was a silky and slightly curling mass that came nearly down to his waist. The only Ashi'kha sign was a black feather attached to a thin braid, a very un-eldarin adornment and one that Gildor shared despite its conspicuousness.

Even I found the two sides I had seen of Raven unsettling. He could be perfectly wolf, just as look perfectly elven. He might dismiss it, but at least to my eyes and I knew to Gildor's, he was the son of an Elda, and it showed. If only in his eyes and bouts of pride that gave him enough courage to occasionally face up to Elrond or me.

"Join me" I said when I reached him, gesturing to the boards at the other end of the hall, laden with foodstuff "If you wait until Gildor turns up, the best things are gone. You must be hungry"

I guessed I had better asked him to charge a horde of orcs than to accompany me to dinner and smiled slightly. He came with me nonetheless "I am hungry" he muttered "But you better pray I do not ruin your reputation at the crucial time, here"

I took his arm, laughing "How should you? You do not eat noisily or spill food, and in this form you will not even leave hairs on my dress either"

"I don't think so" he admitted with a small smile "Still I could not name a quarter of all these dishes. It all tastes different than it looks and is less filling than it tastes"

"Well yes, you won't find a good deer-haunch here" I laughed "Try these. It looks the least artificial"

We selected a number of things each, Raven looking for whatever he considered the most likely to have a familiar taste, I going for the things looking most curious. It proved occasion for a good laugh to go through our collections afterwards and find out halfway we could switch the platters and be actually better off with what the other had selected. Whatever Elrond's reservations were towards Raven, I wondered if they sprung from Raven's nature itself or from Elrond's own split attitude towards Gildor. At any rate I found the dark elf good company. There was something of the informal politeness I knew from the Silvan elves, as well as complete ignorance of courtly behaviour. Maybe that was what made Elrond so uncertain and hence reserved towards both Raven and Gildor. He had been raised by noble born elves and spent all his life in the presence of princes or kings, was lord of our most powerful stronghold in Middle-earth now. Raven had no inkling what courtliness was all about, and Gildor had consciously shrugged off the fetters of any court that might have laid claim on him. Or he might have laid claim to. I took it that was one root of Elrond's irritation - Gildor did not take what he considered the most desirable way. And he would have been either confused or scandalized to find the lady of the Galadhrim bantering over food-samples with a demon-wolf. I would have had my fun inviting Elrond to join us, but that would not have been fair to Raven.

The embroidered design caught my eye for a moment as we sat facing each other "Is that what it seems to me?" I asked, gesturing "It looks like an old Vanyarin pattern"

"I suppose" Raven said after a moment "Gildor says it used to signify the forests in the west…the forests beyond the city. He made it, so…"

I nodded slowly. What a subtle oozing-over into the other's world.

"Now, what do you think of this city?" I gasped, quenching the terrible taste of a dough-roll with a long draught of water.

"It is terrible to navigate" Raven said fervently "And they have no trees"

"One" I said, smiling "Though it is small still. But that is about what Legolas said, even if he was thinking more of gardens, as I take it"

"Is it…anything like Gondolin?"

I glanced at Raven "I have never seen Gondolin" I said slowly "Except on paintings. A bit, maybe. It was white, too, and built in circles, with courts and fountains and…well, two trees in that case. But it did not go up a mountain's side in spirals, it was…plain, I think. It stood on a hill in a wide, circular plain, with high mountains all round. Gildor could tell you better, I assume"

"I suppose he could" Raven said wryly "and that is the one thing he almost never speaks of, though. So I don't ask. Do you know what that is?"

"Cheese?" I guessed.

"It tastes…_sweet_"

I laughed "Was that disgust or surprise?"

Raven nibbled at the brownish thing "It's not so bad, really. But I don't think its cheese…"

"Do you think your people have reached home by now?"

He hesitated "No. They travel swift, but if there is no need to hurry they won't…They will go to the summer-place at the sea, not right up to the mountains yet. If the place is…still unchanged"

"I think it will not be destroyed or so much tainted" I said "Aragorn spoke to the people from the east a little while ago. They were allies of Mordor, but Sauron did not build outposts of his own there. And you are at the…northern tip, where there is thick forest, aren't you?"

Raven nodded "So far, the men avoided that part. It is warm and damp in summer, and almost swamp and frozen marsh in winter. They cannot…farm there"

"And you? What will you do now?"

"That depends on Gildor. I will stay with him. Maybe he comes with me, to the Ashi'kha, some time. Maybe he…maybe he goes to the Havens" he added softly.

"And then?" I pushed gently.

Raven shrugged, toying with his glass "I will go as far as I can"

To the sea. And Gildor would go as far as he could away from it. Ironic twist of fate that each would go into the direction the other avoided. If they found a path to go into which they both could turn…

The entrance of Aragorn and Arwen that moment caused a stir. People cheered and clapped, calling 'the queen' and 'the king' until Aragorn grimaced. Gildor used the distraction to slip in and join us unnoticed. He wore a sleeveless, black tunic which bore the same embroidery as Raven's, combined with the Ashi'kha wolf-skin cape. Oozing-over indeed. It was well that no one here could point out the subtle differences that proclaimed this fur as a werewolf's. I grinned to myself and offered him one of the small baked rolls "You look quite weary. This tastes most wonderfully reviving"

He grinned back, shaking his head "It burns the tongue out of your mouth, that's what it does. I shall remember your plot though, my lady, and consider suitable countermeasures"

He quickly brought back a plate with a wild assortment of food "I spend my time finding out what of that is edible and which poisonous" he answered my raised eyebrow "Help yourself, I would feel guilty leaving you to wander around discreetly nibbling and disposing rolls that taste like dwarven explosive"

He was right, the stuff he had selected indeed filled the definition of 'proper food'. The feast wore on, I realized, and I had better rejoin my husband for a while. Wistfully, I wished for a moment in the quiet of my glade, a chance to look into the mirror, time to asses what I had seen and what I might see.

"Give me your hands a moment, you two"

The looks of puzzled reservation I received were near identical, but when Gildor did not refuse Raven did not draw back either "As the shadow obscured my foresight when I had it, now that the darkness is gone my powers for that wane" I said quietly "Remember that: light and shadow do not go along with each other. Shadow will only be destroyed by light, and light only be quenched by shadow. You must find twilight, and each will remain the same"

"I hear your words, but I do not see their ending" Gildor said softly after a while.

"That" I said wryly, rising "Is the nature of things since time began. Watch for the partings in the way. It may not be necessary to take the straight road"

Gildor looked at me as if I had struck him, and only then I realized what exactly I had said. I nodded swiftly, and made myway over to Celeborn and Elrond, wondering.


	59. Chapter 59 TA3020

**3020**

Third Age 3020, near Imladris

Elrond's POV

I could not believe this. A hunting trip, a scout-foray, a simple patrol to see how the empty lands fared. Nothing special. The days had passed peacefully indeed. And now that we were near the valley again we got into this clam?

A small group of orcs, sodden and furtive creatures, the white hand on their ragged armour now soot-stained and hardly visible anymore, clambered in the ravine below. They were on our heels, on our tracks, and they outnumbered us three to one. Still, we could have taken them on, but our plot of cornering them in the ravine had failed. Hunted probably since their miserable escape from Isengard their wariness was so great that they had scented us already. And now they stopped. Our choice was to plunge down the steep walls and hope to have enough surprise in our attack that we killed their surplus before it came to hand-to-hand combat, or to run.

We would not run, but to charge down the near vertical walls was madness as well. If they came up our path, we would be cornered up here instead. And only Faranaur and Caltarin had bows. I swore heartily. A few moons ago I could have called on Vilya, brought the small rivulet at the floor of the ravine up into a roaring flood. It was connected to the Bruinen, after all. Now, I was stuck up here on the rocks' side like a beetle, small and helpless, and all others with me as well. I detested this, hated it, and smothered the feeling quickly. I had fought battles before I had borne Vilya, and I had survived then, too.

Raven crouched at the edge, flat on his stomach. The orcs knew we were up here. They had seen the path up, so much Raven had gathered that from their talk, but they had not yet _seen_ us. It made little difference. Gildor and I stood with our backs to the rock-wall behind us.

"Would you attack?" I asked as we watched Raven worming his way along the edge.

Gildor shook his head "Wait what _he_ says. I would attack, yes, but you know it would not be wise"

"It wouldn't" I agreed "It would be madness" I glanced at him, but he watched Raven and avoided my eyes. Raven slithered back and came over to us "They debate over coming up here. But they don't like the narrow path. We can wait till they come and try to defend the place where the path reaches our ledge-"

"Only one of us at a time could fight. We would be too vulnerable, they _all_ have bows" I interrupted, but Raven nodded and continued "But if we act now, we can get them all. I know you do not like this, but I ask you to give me leave to do what _I_ can" He gestured to the overhang on which he had crouched "You can feel this is all loose and waits to fall. I can _make_ it fall"

And a few moons back I could have done the same. Another way, but the same result. He did not say it, but we all knew it. There was a shout from the bottom of the ravine.

"They attack" Raven spun and ran to the edge, dropping sharply to his knees there. Instinctively I moved forward as well, but Gildor jerked me back. I could feel Raven pulling at the forces within the living rock, the earth gathered among the loose gravel, pulling it towards himself recklessly. I shivered. With Vilya I had been able to move, to master those forces, but Raven connected them to himself, steered them not with his will but his mind. I could almost feel the ground quivering, answering. It was too great a strain. There was no boundary between Raven and the earth-force he was calling on. I realized what Raven was trying to do, and immediately knew he alone could not do this, try as he might. Gildor knew it, too. He let me go and ran over to Raven, grabbing him. He had been shielded against me always. Now, he had to abandon all his careful shields in order to help Raven, giving him the chance to fully draw on the bond he had never closed completely since Lorien. Raven drew on the additional strength Gildor offered him, and used it as his own to force the ground itself into budging. I did not think about breaking my connection to Gildor. There was a rush as of blood draining from a wound. Saelbeth jerked me back just in time, shaking me "Come to your senses! They know what they are doing, Elrond" Before I could round on him, there was a low roar which grew into a crash. Harsh orc-cries grew shrill in surprise. Dust rose from the ravine, making us choke.

For some reason the overhang the two crouched upon did not fall. Heavy dust settled around us. Saelbeth crept to the edge and looked down. He gave a curt signal, telling us that all was in order. I ran to the huddled heap of Gildor and Raven, glancing briefly into the ravine. There was an enormous amount of rubble there. In fact, the whole opposite wall appeared to have crumbled, along with a portion of the one we stood upon. The narrow and deep ravine had become a small flat valley. Nothing stirred there. Saelbeth took three guards and went down to check for survivors. Errive joined me. Even without Vilya, I remained sensitive of earth-forces. For a moment, I had lost track of the sparks that were both Gildor and Raven, but I realized with deep relief now that both were still breathing.

"Help me get them away from the edge"

I rolled Gildor over and wrapped my arms around him to drag him away from the crumbling drop. Raven was out cold and did not even stir when Errive picked him up. He could not have been a heavy load, because Errive lifted him in his arms easily. Gildor made a small, growling sound and twisted to shake me off. It wasn't a feeble push but a quite directed attack that caught me completely off guard for a moment. I could hear stones and gravel still coming loose and rattling down the sides of the cliffs. I pulled Gildor back with me roughly, questing for his unshielded mind as I struggled with him. He was still connected to Raven's mind. I had unshielded to him, and faced the wolf squarely, only barely managing to break the strong tie between the two before he shook me off, both mentally and physically. Shocked, I crouched beside him with our backs to the firm wall. I glanced at Errive, who shook his head "Raven's alright I think. But we should get them into some warmer place for the night. Wasn't there a cave somewhere near, Elrond?"

"Yes" I said absently "Up this path and a little south. Saelbeth, what is down there?"

"Lots of rubble. Caltarin and Ergil will wait for a while, but we are pretty sure nothing lives under those stones anymore. There are quite some _rocks_ come loose"

He knelt beside us worriedly "Will they be alright?"

"I think so. We will go to the cave and see when they wake up. I can do nothing here" I swallowed frustration. I could do precious little these days! "Tell the two down there that Rawegil and Faranaur will relieve them at midnight" I added and got up "It will be some walk if we have to carry these two"

After the unpleasant surprise with the orcs I was glad to find the cave deserted and empty. We dropped our packs and Rawegil and Faranaur went to get firewood. Saelbeth refilled all our water-flasks and Errive and I stayed with Gildor and Raven. Gradually, I could puzzle together what had happened, and my respect rose with my anger. Did Gildor not know what he was doing? Or did he not care? I had consciously refrained from remarking on anything that concerned his unrestricted bond to Raven. First and foremost because it was solely his personal decision and risk, and then because I knew he would probably kill me if I further interfered with him. When Errive crouched beside me, I jerked out of my thoughts, realizing that I had sat here for a long while. Errive held an apple and a hunk of bread under my nose "Faranaur has gone hunting. Saelbeth will take his place tonight. Eat"

"Thank you" I nibbled at the apple, but ate mostly because I knew I should. For a moment, I had faced the wolf, only the wolf. Not Raven-wolf, not Gildor, only the wolf, and he had stood against me. Without Vilya, that experience still made me shiver, even now. I tried to shake that off, finished my meal without tasting much, and checked on the unconscious Raven. He had always been lean, but whatever had happened in Lorien during the War had drained any reserves he had had. I took his hand, sinew and bone and little flesh, into mine and quested for his mind gently. But I did not meet the wolf, raw and roaring, only the fuzzy absence of consciousness. With some hesitation, I lowered my shields to check on him with proper healing energies. I found none of the angry red disturbance that went with hurt, and retreated, relieved. Whatever he had done, it seemed to have caused no lasting harm. Something I would not have sworn by a few hours ago.

In moments like these I missed the power of the Ring even more keenly. Right, the continuous strain of controlling her was gone. I could get used to the tiny things that had changed or ceased with the stop of her activity, I could even accept the growing weariness that left her nothing but a dead weight on my finger – but I could not accept the loss of her support of my healing powers. I touched Gildor with much more restraint. Not that I feared to find the wolf's mind still guarding him, but because I knew his own power and did not want to find myself on the receiving end of a startled strike by him. I could defend myself against Raven and whatever an Eldarin mind might do if it thought itself threatened by me – but Gildor might have adapted enough of Raven's mental techniques to be dangerous to me. He was not as deeply unconscious as Raven, but still I could not wake him. He was not hurt either, only deeply exhausted. Though he did not draw back from my touch to his mind I could feel his uneasiness. After a brief struggle with myself I conceded and pulled back.

Faranaur returned with a hare. We prepared a small meal, setting a little aside for Caltarin and Ergil, then Saelbeth went off with Rawegil to take over their watch. Errive and I shared the night's watch-duty, an arrangement that had always one healer awake. The next day Rawegil returned alone, saying Saelbeth had gone to try his hunting luck. I nodded, but looked down at my hands thoughtfully. Always before, it had been self-understood that neither I nor any other healer was expected to hunt. With Vilya, I had been glad that I had not needed to kill, but right now I wondered if it would still make a difference. I was not more sensitive or bound to sharing pain than any other healer anymore, and still they all acted as if we should not touch a knife to hunt or kill. And Saelbeth himself was not keen for hunting, I knew.

At least I managed to wake Gildor around midday. He was quite groggy and unable to stand on his own, but ignored my worried inquiries until he had checked on Raven for himself.

"You can trust me to speak true when I say he is not hurt" I said, all my frustration with myself and at his recklessness combining to make me snap.

Gildor rounded on me sharply "The ring is dead and you can trust me when I say _you _could not have released the force he did to save our asses down there"

We were alone and he did not hold to the little respectful distance he still kept towards me when others were around.

"He nearly killed you in this mad scheme, don't you realize that?" I demanded.

"Elrond, I stood back once when I should have gone forward, and there was more at stake then than here! I will not make the same mistake again!"

"No one blames you for that, damn you!" I hissed "I am not talking about us or anyone, I am talking about _you_. Do you care so little what becomes of you?"

"Are you telling me that again?" Gildor demanded in an equally soft hiss. He was shaking, but I did not know if it was weakness or fury. Once more, he was tightly shielded against me.

"Do you know what happened when we tried to get you off that damn edge that was crumbling to dust beneath you? You nearly knocked me down, you did. Because there was a wolf's mind controlling you!"

"Nothing controlled me!"

"Oh yes it did. How can you do this? Allow this? Are you becoming a beast yourself?"

"Would you rather end up stuck full of orc-spears, Elrond of Rivendell? How conceited can you get?"

"Answer my question!"

Gildor snorted and turned away. Angrily, I jerked him around and pushed him back against the rough stone-wall. For the moment he did not have his full strength and I knew that was the only reason he did not fight me. Even with Vilya faded I felt his anger as searing heat and wondered if I had not gone one step too far finally. Gildor closed his eyes for a moment "Let me go"

"Answer me"

"Let me go, Elrond. Now"

I was familiar with his temper, and with the way he could turn a seemingly deadly challenge into a jest. I half expected him to add one absurd boast that would turn all this into a laugh. But this was a different Gildor than I knew. He only stared at me, breathing hard, the demand hovering between us. Suddenly I knew that for a moment we were two wolves staring at each other before one gave in or they fought. I curbed my own anger and slowly released him, finding the furious heat in me gone quite cold. I was still angry at his foolishness, but could not describe this new feeling. My hands shook suddenly "Answer me, Gildor" I whispered.

He nodded, slowly "If that is what it seems to you is happening, I will not say it is bad"

Practice kept my jaw from dropping, I guess. My own world crashed into another one I had up to then not known could exist. One in which he would be alone forever. Couldn't he see that?

"You were born Elda. Would you be half a beast just to stay here? Just to fight the sea?"

"If I could be thrice as much beast as Raven is, Elrond, I still would not be half a beast. I have been born Elda, you are correct. But it helps me little, it only hinders"

He was turning my words around even as I spoke them. I stared at him, unable to form a reply. I remembered well what he had said before the war. How far had he gone into that world he built for himself, that he built around a creature neither wolf nor elf?

Outside the cave Errive called my name "Give us a hand here, please, can you?"

"Coming"

I looked at Gildor once more, feeling suddenly desperate. Was it not enough that our world was fading without mercy? Did Gildor have to try and shatter what remained? What did he hope to gain? There was nothing along this way he walked, except the remnant of the ancient doom. Would he rather become a houseless fёar drifting powerless and regretful in a world it could never inhabit again? Would he sacrifice the last hope of the West for his pride?

And how blind had I been not to see how much he really meant to me? Like my sons had later become he had always been a vengeful being, stubborn and proudly always going the way he chose. He had never depended on me, my judgement, or my wishes. But Glorfindel had been right, Gildor had always been loyal to me and true to his word. I did not want to lose him to a life of senseless existence in which only instincts ruled. I could not imagine that was what he desired. But he only returned my gaze flatly, having not moved once.

"Forgive me" I muttered, and hastily left the cave.

Once he was awake, he did not leave Raven alone in the cave with me. It was when Saelbeth returned from watching and, reporting we could drop our surveillance of the ravine, sat down beside the dark elf that he finally went off to the near brook. I was put off by that useless lack of trust in me, then decided Gildor was not doing it because of me but for Raven. The younger elf had never ceased to fear me, though he would travel with me or give as tart replies as anyone else. It was the involuntary and by no means personal objection I thought I had against specially Gildor's doing that made Raven wary of me. This was grating more on me than the loss of the rings and the inevitable consequences of that. I was reconciled to the end, in a way, though it was bitter. But I wished to have no grievances until that end overtook us. I waited for Gildor to return, but he took some time in coming back. He had only growled at our discreet offers for help and it would cost him considerable effort to go down to the brook and climb up here afterwards on his own. Finally I heard him swearing as he slipped somewhere outside, reaching the ledge in front of our cave. He did not come in, though, and after a while I went out to speak to him. I found he had already refilled our water-flasks, which were bundled up at the foot of the rock he perched on. Caltarin and Ergil would finish their circuit tonight, and we could start our way back to Rivendell if Raven was awake then and capable to travel. Which I doubted, though I would have been glad to go as soon as possible. It was a cool day, full of fitful light and shifting clouds. Half the time it looked like rain, then the sun would break through and for a while it would be fine and hot. Gildor gave me a resigned glance when I came out of the cave. He was barefoot and looked bedraggled, wearing only breeches and a shirt he had not bothered to lace up after his bath. Water dripped gently from his tousled hair. It had grown into a long reddish mane he wore mostly unbound these days, braiding only the strands that would permanently fall into his eyes otherwise.

"I don't want to argue" I said in greeting, feeling as weary as the land looked today. I moved to stand beside him and looked out over the rocky, almost barren area around and below. In the changing light, there was a dismal look to the sheer rocks and clinging bracken, remindful more of late winter than early spring. Well, in the mountains there was not so much difference between the two anyway. But in the valley, the first trees would be flowering now, when we returned.

"I cannot understand your motives, so let us put the differences aside" I said softly "The time we have left is too precious to waste on that. Let us use the year we have left better, my friend"

He looked at me, deeply startled, then stricken.

"Did you not know it?" I asked gently "It is the last full year for the former ring-keepers. It is all a long leave-taking and settling of affairs. In the Shire, the Halfling will find his world changed to exclude him in the end. And so our world here becomes smaller and greyer, too. To exclude us in the end. I am starting to realize I will be glad to leave. And to go in peace"

Gildor shook his head slightly, turning away to stare down at the rocks. For a moment he lost control of his composure and I could feel his pain at this announcement. I moved to embrace him and felt him stiffen, making a grab for his calm shielding before relaxing against me.

"I did not know. Maybe I did not think about it" he said finally. When he continued, I had to strain to hear him over the growing wind that came with a new bank of clouds "We have always shut it out, Raven and I. As a result I fear I have shut everything else out as well. Including you. I am sorry"

"You have found a way to survive" I said slowly "I see that, at least. I suppose you can walk only one way without tearing yourself in two. I know, I had to decide between commander and ring-bearer often enough"

He made a soft sound that might have been a laugh or a snort "At least you decided consistently an did not oscillate like an oil-blotch between Imladris and the wild"

I had to laugh wryly "I did not have much choice in the matter, Gildor. I could not afford the freedom of a winding path. If I rebuked you for it, maybe you should discount it as envy"

"And now that you can – do you no longer want to?" It was barely a whisper above the wind.

"I wonder" I said "I do not have the strength anymore, I fear. For a year, maybe two. But I find I do not want to leave the valley even then. So long. So far. I am getting _old_, my friend"

It was a joke, and he knew it well. It elicited at least a feeble snicker.

"I…am beginning to see what you really meant…last year. About the wolf. About Raven" I admitted finally "Is that your little trick, where you get the strength to stay year after year without feeling everything goes to dust around you?"

"If so, it is a gift, nothing of my doing, least of all a trick" Gildor said after a while "It is too alive for that"

"I see the sun there shining on that patch of heath" I said when he remained silent "But I _know_ it is shining warm there more than I feel it. I know, and it is well, but I would not have the will to go there, for the little time the light will be there"

Gildor gave a small nod "You said your world has become small and grey. Despite the fact that Sauron is gone and all lands would be free now for us to travel in. But my world has become small, too. Only in another way, I think. There is nothing that drives me from this shore for that, but only tells me I could take that small world wherever I wish on this side of the sea. Because my little world is revolving around Raven. Around the wolf. And he has endless energy, it seems, enough for the two of us. It may be a small world, but it is yet full of life and colour. I know if the wolf were awake now, he would chase me over to that spot for a nap in the sun"

"Do you…miss the rings?" I finally dared to ask. Suddenly it seemed to be possible to talk to him as before, to simply pass over the pitfalls we ourselves had dug "Do you feel it that they are gone? You never…well, you never spoke your mind about Vilya to me, really. Only to Gil-galad"

Gildor gave a small sigh "You know I spoke against the rings when I was asked. But what should I have said to you other than what I did? I did not like what they were supposed to be doing, the knowledge that they depended on Sauron and that all that was accomplished with them would fall if ever he did. It never was nor is now my part to counsel others on what I think they should or should not do…But yes, I do feel the absence. I did not like it, but it used to be a relief for a while to be in Imladris back then, for the peace it gave not to count every sunrise. I would have been careful to go before it felt comfortable, but it never did. I _had_ to leave every time I did, Elrond, or they would have strangled me. That is why I find it much harder to say that I now miss their effect nonetheless"

I nodded slightly. The clouds thickened and the rising gusts spoke of rain "Aren't you cold, just half-dressed?"

Gildor shook his head "You get used to it pretty soon, with the wolf"

He sat up, and I let him go, looking at him. He met my eyes squarely now, but without challenge.

"You were so upset about…the wolf's mind guarding me, Elrond. But I…find it easier to open myself to a beast that is completely itself than to a force whose final source lay in the Dark Lord. That would have dragged me before him the moment I lost control of it. Whatever the wolf might lose control of, it is nothing that I could not find in myself as well"

I mulled that over for considerable time before finding an answer. I had promised him I would not quarrel, and though everything in me revolted at the thought, I knew it had some merit. But I was not a wolf, and I had never been meant to be one.

"That is one thing that made me…react as I did" I said cautiously "Yet it is not so truly the wolf alone, I think. You…are right, there is not so much difference between a wolf's mind and our's, though believe me, I would never have thought I would say this. We are the Children of the One, not wolves or other beasts. But…Gildor, when Raven touches those energies that flow in the land, there is no barrier between him and what he touches. I said so when I realized what he was doing with the werewolf-spirits. We know the land itself can be under the shadow, and all the malice that may reside in such a strip of soil he would encounter unprotected. I think. Maybe his people would not even be affected by it so much. I know Sauron is gone, but pockets of his power remain, and he was not the only evil in the world, though maybe the greatest. You know that shaman of theirs, Nightchaser, he was in Imladris with his...pack all the while. I have seen what he could do, and he had no restraint to mesh his powers with mine, ring or no ring. So maybe I fear something they are not even aware of or vulnerable to" I trailed off.

"I do not know" Gildor said quietly "But I have never felt a shadow over what he did or what we did. I trust my own sense, Elrond. And if I come closer to the wolf in that than you would ever wish, I said it is not what worries me. Indeed I desire it"

I nodded with some effort "I promised to accept that, so I will. Let us go inside. If you are not cold, _I _am by now"

Chapter Notes:

Caltarin – (Q) bright morning

Ergil – (S) single star

Rawegil – (S) lion-sword

Errive – (Q) first of winter

8


	60. Chapter 60 Midwinter

**Midwinter**

Imladris, TA 3020

Raven's POV

I was wakened by someone making a sound I did not recognize as my name for a while. From the fuzzy and peaceful dreams of the wolf it was like breaking through glass to come back into the world and mind of unfurred. But I felt a hand on mine which both I and the wolf recognized as Gildor's, long before I realized the sound meant 'Raven'. So I struggled awake and opened my eyes. There was no glare of the sun as I had anticipated, only soft and warm fire-light. We were alone. Relieved, I sat up, taking a precious moment as the blunted, cold-feeling senses of unfurred replaced the warm awareness of the wolf.

Gildor did not look particularly fresh either "I'm sorry for waking you. But you've been sleeping for two days straight now. I was _worried_-"

I blinked. Two days. Oh. Yes, I remembered now. The orcs, the landslide we caused.

"We kind of…overestimated, I suppose" I said finally, having to form the words consciously around the momentary blankness in my mind "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine" Gildor gave me a mug with something steaming. I was thirsty and would have preferred something to gulp down, but this was better than nothing.

"I was out cold for a few hours, but at least I _woke_" he added.

"Nothing bad happened to me" I said, nipping the spiced wine cautiously "I would have wakened soon, I suppose. Where are the others?"

"Hunting. Here…eat something"

Fresh bread. Fresh bread and wine. I would never see how these people could provide the most improbable things even when out scouting.

"Water?"

"Here" he gave me a water-skin "But drink that wine, too"

"What's in there?" I asked suspiciously.

"Cinnamon, sugar and cloves. Nothing else"

I busied myself with the food and drink for a while "You were…pretty rash joining to me then, you realize?"

Gildor smiled wryly "I thought we'd had it. Did you know what you were doing?"

"I did. But what about you?"

Gildor shook his head silently, but I did not know if he meant that as an answer or was not going to answer "Since that did not kill me, Elrond nearly did. I suppose he forgot for a moment that Sauron is gone…"

I nibbled the soft bread and watched him. He carefully kept looking aside, hiding his face behind a curtain of hair as he inspected his dagger and then sheathed and put it aside.

"What will we do now?"

Gildor shrugged "Wait for the others, eat whatever they caught, and then go back. Rawegil and Caltarin will remain here to wait for the regular patrol to come by and take this place over"

Exactly that happened. A day later we were back in Imladris. Elrond had not spoken much to me, and I had avoided addressing him. The night of our return I went to the main bathhouses, too tired to use one of the smaller rooms within the building. When I came to our rooms Gildor was not yet there, only his pack sat still tied on the table. It had been raining solidly all day, so I pried the knot open and spread the soaked contents in front of the fireplace. Then I flopped down on my own bed and rolled into the covers. I felt terribly tired and weary, something I hated with all my heart. Since the incident with the spear in Lorien I seemed to feel every strain double, and that ceased only slowly. Too slow for my taste. I could have slept now but kept myself awake, though I could not rouse myself enough to stake up the dying fire again. Gildor came in a little later, bearing the signs of a hasty bath. When he saw that I was still awake he shut the door with a bang that betrayed anger and flopped down on his bed in the dark.

"It's starting all over!" he growled "I can't believe it. The Ashi'kha fought this war with us, Mala'shech died, you nearly died, and now Sauron is gone they keep asking why! Why can't they just.leave.it.be? I'll _kill_ the one who next asks me this!"

I knew very well what he was referring to. It did not bother the wolf, and I was too tired to take any offence at someone's remaining doubts.

"Who is 'they', hm?"

"Who _are_ they" he corrected sullenly. I laughed and got up despite my protesting muscles, taking one of the candles in our room. By now, I could light it with a sharp, directed prod of power. I carried it over to Gildor and put it on the low desk between our beds as I crouched down beside him. In the candle-light his eyes did not look green-blue but dark. He watched me steadily, anger at whatever confrontation he had had tonight radiating from him.

"Try to imagine what they would think of this" I said softly, gesturing at the candle "If you no longer must think I am in league with the dark for this, don't let _their_ doubts get to you so much. _You_ showed me how to do this. _You_ realized that it is always the choice for what to use this that decides right or wrong. Their words have always been the same, even when you were with the rhevain. What can they change? Nothing, Gildor"

Gildor shook his head "Do my people never grow up? Can we still be such _children_?...I wish there was a way to stop their damned questions, their looks"

"I thought Elrond made his peace with the way things are"

"It's not him" Gildor raked his hands through his hair but did not elaborate. Glorfindel or Saelbeth would not badger him on this either, so whoever else now nagged him I did not know and therefore could dismiss as unimportant to me.

"Look, I am very much inclined to take Arwen's advice. Ignore them"

"I have ignored them all my life" he snapped angrily "I had better stand up to their disapproval just once"

"The wolf will always be a demon-hound for them, never what he is for you!" I returned "There is no way"

Gildor stared at me for a long moment until I dropped my eyes "But there is…" he said suddenly "There could be…If you would go along…No, that is mad. I can't…"

"Gildor-" I was half amused when he trailed off for considerable time, staring at the candle "If you told me what you meant I could give you an answer. I have a weakness for mad schemes"

He looked at me straight then "Bind with me" he said abruptly "Announce your binding with me on midwinter"

I blinked. Mad scheme indeed. But mad for whom, him or me? I would say yes without hesitation. But this time, startling me, the wolf kept me back. I knew what _vach'khan'tohr_ meant when they said binding. And though I could not imagine staying after he had gone west, a tiny voice reminded me that Ashi'kha did not know the binding of one to one forever. If I stayed, if ever I found myself approached as _nok'uni_ I would have to betray either Gildor or my clan. Wouldn't I?

I was not shielded from him. Since Lorien, I had never been. I knew he would see what was going through my mind.

"But the binding on midwinter does not invoke the Valar's seal" he said quietly "I would not ask you to choose between me and your clan. It would only stop their questions. It would only say out loud what we have been for years…It would leave you free to be _nok'uni_ if ever you have to or want to"

He understood my clan far better than I understood his people even after so long a time. I grimaced inwardly, feeling inexplicably guilty.

"We would so manage to make them all blink" I said wryly.

"We would" he agreed "But it was not them I was thinking about in the first place"

"I know…And yes, I will" I said "I will indeed. But will they not tease you worse than ever? You who never bound yourself?"

"They will not tease about this" Gildor said ominously "They are much too worried to lose me to the beasts"

"What?"

"You said it yourself. They cannot see what the wolf is. That is what they can't understand. The wolves. You and the wolves, that is. No matter the Ashi'kha were here so long. They…cannot trust something who's other half if wholly beast"

And you can, I almost asked. But I knew it was a vain question. If someone ever trusted me, it was Gildor.

"And how should the beast-half, if indeed there was one, betray them?" I asked "To whom? Where would be the harm? Where would _you_ 'get lost' in this?"

He usually gave flippant answers to this. But not tonight. It took another while of silence until he spoke "Raven…Elrond realized only when we did that thing with the landslide how much the wolf can lead us both. It was only the wolf that kept me from great harm when we linked minds then. I…I think when they tried to separate us to carry us to the cave I reacted for a moment as the…wolf would have done. Elrond snapped our connection then because I was attacking him"

"You speak so calmly about this" I said carefully after a while "If you can, why does it seem bad to them then? Did it hurt you?"

"Raven, it saved my life! But I can only speak the way I do because I experienced it. I know it was not bad. But that _they_ cannot know or feel. And my telling will never suffice"

"Well" I said finally "I certainly do look forward to midwinter"

Elrond's POV

Midwinter festival in Imladris was, aside from the speciality of this time, always beautiful. But now there were perceptively more candles than ever before, flickering in high glasses spaced along the terraces as well as within the buildings. I busied myself with the preparations and any work I could lay my hands on, causing first Erestor then Glorfindel to tell me to _sit down and rest, for heaven's sake_. But I couldn't. So much had changed. I did not want to sit and contemplate the changes, least of all the most painful ones.

Before midnight, almost everyone was outside by the great fire we had lit in the main gardens. Torches were set evenly in a circle around the gathering. It was bitter cold, and a soft snow was falling. This was a midwinter-feast that was near perfect. And in honour of the occasion and defiance of the last servants of the shadow, there would be fireworks. Imladris would no longer be kept hidden by our design. We would start with this. Mithrandir had been stacking his supplies here for a few weeks in advance. I kept my mind blank and enjoyed the incredible display. I knew it lasted a great while, but it seemed over too soon.

There would be one other main event before the feast wound down to the fire, music and hot drinks. After many years of almost breathless expectation, there were people who wished to announce their binding.

Isilfanya and Curutano came forward first. They had waited for several years for this, and I felt relieved and glad to finally give them the formal blessing. Glossgil and Faranaur were next. They came as a bit of a surprise. Glossgil was Silvan, and she had had a hard time getting used to and finding her place within Rivendell. I had assumed only great friendship between her and Faranaur, but obviously missed out the rest. After speaking their blessing I shook snowflakes out of my hair and stepped back to wait for the next and last pair. I found myself curious, but also felt some trepidation. Raven and Gildor went forward together to stand in the circle beside the fire. Gildor had spoken to me only briefly before and I wondered what they would do. Would they choose the way of Raven's people, however that worked? But then they would have had to coach me on the proper actions. Would they follow the rhevain tradition, and cause a major argument right on midwinter feast? I knew that the wild elven clans' binding announcements were simple but effective. The pair in question would step forward, announce their binding, and challenge people to object. I did not know what happened if there were objections, but could imagine if Gildor were to do this, there would be trouble.

Raven as the younger spoke first, and for once he was calm and confident as he said the formal words of approach.

"We are here to pledge our binding on midwinter night. Hear what we ask"

It was the same words everyone had spoken before, yet I almost gasped because he said them in ancient Quenya. Few here understood it, less spoke it, and my mind only supplied me with the meaning because I had witnessed and sealed more bindings than I could remember and was familiar with all versions. They had chosen the traditional way, yes, but it would be an immaculate play with the conventions. A play I knew only Gildor or someone else who remembered Valinor as older than a babe could pull off. They settled what was to follow on traditions that had evolved during, maybe even before, the Great March in the Starlit Dark. Raven continued firmly, switching now to Sindarin which everyone would understand.

"I am Raven, Kela'shin of Wolf Clan, son of Khai'la of Wolf Clan and Hurondil of Gondolin, who is now Kelehan of Wolf Clan. Tonight I announce my binding to my companion and lover, Gildor who in my people's language is named Desert Lion"

I firmly put the soft whispers that went through the gathered elves out of my mind and digested what Raven had just said. He had named his own true name, which I could see no one here had ever heard except Gildor. In naming himself Raven had unfounded whatever doubts we might have about him still to the point of retaining no personal defence - and anyone who still said 'but' would now be challenging Gildor's intention directly. They had contrived this shift of responsibility with the calling on of the ancient ways. Gildor carried his sword, at his side this time where it could be drawn in a moment, but Raven only wore the bone-blade of his clan. It was clear who would answer to any further challenge.

Gildor spoke next. If he felt defiance, it did not show in his speech but in his brief words.

"I am Gildor, son of Elear of Alqualonde, scout of Hawk Clan and of Imladris. Tonight I announce my binding to my companion and lover, Raven Kela'shin of Wolf Clan"

I truly bit my lip at this. He only named his mother, holding to the law of Valinor under which he and Silmarusse had abdicated their right to their fathers' lands and titles, and he ignored the possibility of naming father and mother regardless of what had befallen within the family. Neither was there any reference to his military rank or his part in the host of Gondolin, which had not fallen to ruin with the city, whatever he might think. I wished for his pride he would have at least claimed that. But of course he would refer to the rhevain.

In any way the two had masterfully played their cards for those who could see. They could have chosen for one to offer his binding and the other accepting, as the other two pairs had done. Instead, each had simply announced his binding to the other. Everyone now knew that whatever terms their relationship rested on, it was those of Wolf Clan. In a way, with calling on the old ways, what they had done was as good as a rhevain challenge. And neither would Elbereth be called on, as I had asked her blessing for Curutano and Faranaur and their partners.

I pulled my mind together and spoke the formal reply, feeling the Ancient Quenya words awkward and cool on my tongue "I hear what you say. I witness and acknowledge your pledge. Stand forward for your binding to be sealed"

I walked forward as well so we met beside the fire. The warmth from the blaze was very comfortable after the icy snow drifting on the dark night-wind. This part was the same whichever version of pledging was chosen. I took Gildor's hand and set it on Raven's, then wrapped the leather-thong around their forearms so it crossed itself four times up and below.

"I acknowledge and seal your binding, for you to be each other's this winter and all the winters that may follow" I said quietly, then, following an impulse I did not understand at the time, feeling only that the words seemed unfinished this way, added "May your hunts be successful and Orome's blessing be upon you"

I met Gildor's startled look for a moment, but then had to concentrate on not cutting either of them as I slipped my knife between their joined arms and cut the thong through. I picked up the two longest pieces and gave one to each.

Raven's POV

The leather-thongs curled in the snow in front of me looking like the thin grass-snakes that thrived in the dunes of our summer-camps. I stared at them for a moment, puzzled that this should mark the beginning of the end not only of our secrecy but also of any doubtful questions that had so angered Gildor lately. I found it interesting that people had things to announce their belonging. I could not remember that my clan exchanged such tokens and for a moment worried at the thought as a wolf did a meat-bone. Had we? Sometimes, partners wore similar or the same _akhai_. That was the only thing I was familiar with. I crossed my legs tighter and leaned forward, laying each of the thongs in a hoop with overlapping edges which I tied into two knots. That way, the size could be varied without having to untie anything.

"There" I got up and brushed snow off my long robe, managing not to trip on the hem again. Gildor, having crouched opposite me, rose as well.

"Don't you dare throw it" he said as I made to lop one off the hoops towards him. The fire was at our backs and I could not see his face clearly.

"Of course not" I grinned and went to stand before him. I was going to drop the thong into his hands, but then thought differently and took his hand, pushing his sleeve up and slipping the thong up over his elbow.

"Too tight?"

"No" He took the other loop from me, so I held out my own naked arm. Snow was falling, but for some reason I felt too warm and had left my coat on a bench.

"Push it higher" I said "So I won't lose it when I change"

He looked at me for a moment, and I knew he was involuntary estimating what I knew without thinking – how the joints and bones of my unfurred body corresponded with my wolf-form. He obeyed, but instead of retreating and ushering us both back to the rest as I had thought he would, he held on to me and pulled me close. Only now, with the security of feeling Gildor with me, holding me, I realized how much this speaking the few words I had said in front of the whole valley tonight had cost me. I leaned my head on his chest in relief.

"I am glad we did this" His breath was warm on my cheek in the comfortably cold night.

"So am I"

"Are you hungry?"

I laughed in surprise "Who is corrupting who, hm? I am tired. But first and foremost, I am hungry, yes"

Gildor took my cloak from the bench and held it out for me. I slipped into it a little awkwardly. I preferred the wide-cut things I could easily shrug on or off. Gildor rested his hand on my side for a moment over the scar the spear had left.

"It hurts still?"

"Sometimes" I admitted uncomfortably, wondering if he had guessed it or probed for my mind. I thought I had hidden the instances when that happened well.

"Not well enough" he said dryly.

I glanced at him "I wish you wouldn't do that"

"Privilege. I wish I could be like a wolf for a moment"

I froze in my tracks, feeling my heart hammering suddenly. Gildor halted as well "Raven, I didn't mean-"

"No" I said quickly "No. Gildor, I did not think. I – we - _could_ do this…yes-"

This was the last I had learned from Nightchaser before Niy'ashi and I had left the clan. I did not know why I felt uncertain now, because then I had thought it the most wonderful opportunity. The wolf remorselessly forced me to remember why I flinched from this. It was what had given me the idea to try and seek Niy'ashi's fёa on _shin'a'sha_.

"…indeed I think it would work…There is something we can try" I said finally, moving forward and concentrating on Gildor's presence beside me. He said nothing, waiting for me to continue. Gradually, I could view the idea separate from Niy'ashi's death, see it again as the wonderful way Nightchaser had opened to us then.

We were almost in the middle of the gathering. I stared at the fire, grateful for the warmth now just as a moment ago I had felt too hot.

"We are not shielded anyway. If I…if you join your mind to mine when I am wolf, not just for…mind-speech but…short of binding I can…carry your awareness with me and…you can see as the wolf does. You can _be_ wolf, in a way-"

I had shocked and angered him before, but never seen that look on his face. His people thought so many weird things, saw them different from us, and just as many we regarded similarly. I knew what I proposed must seem dangerously close to possession, but then I met his gaze, resolved not to back down on this. It was mine, my people's, and I would stand up for it. I was braced for conflict, but then he said only "And you are sure that it works backward as well?"


	61. Chapter 61 Wolf's eyes

**Wolf's Eyes**

Imladris, TA 3020

Gildor's POV

The midwinter feast lasted well into the early hours. I woke late afternoon the next day, but remained lying in bed lazily, waiting for Raven to wake as well. It was getting dusky when he finally came alive and stirred. We exchanged a look, and he stretched, going from fast asleep to wide awake and energetic with the wolf's remarkable ability. The room looked glum and uninviting without any light and only the grey dimness filtering in through the window.

Raven pushed himself up on one elbow and looked at me speculatively. Then he leaned forward to kiss my brow lightly.

"I need to hunt. I won't be able to hold anything back then"

"I…see" I spoke into his hair falling before my face, tickling. His shoulders felt thin and bony "Won't it take much more strength this way?"

"No" Then I could feel him gathering himself for the change, but this time I did not ignore the jarring feeling and deliberately concentrated on it. And I kept my mind open instead of turning away from the disturbing sensation of the change, kept my full connection to him. Somehow I had always thought it must terrible, or at least frightening to observe what he did so closely. I had touched him before when he changed, channelling energy for him sometimes. The most unsettling thing remained feeling his very body form into that of a wolf, bones and muscles adjusting to the built of the animal. It took only a brief moment, but seemed longer now that I felt it so immediately. Then I could feel soft fur under my hands, lying on the wolf's narrow shoulders. His silky muzzle was beside my face. I looked into his eyes, unable to say where Raven ended or the wolf began. His eyes never truly changed, but I could not say if the wolf had Raven's eyes, or Raven had a wolf's eyes. He braced himself with one foreleg on the bed, but the other paw rested on my chest. I set it on my palm, and it was only slightly smaller than my hand. Four padded toes, a large pad in the middle. Further up from his paw, on the inside of his leg was the small claw that corresponded to the thumb. The wolf walked on what were our fingertips. Impossible to imagine how that allowed him the strength, speed and balance he had. I had to touch him before completing this contact. I could feel the wolf's eagerness to be off, Raven's calm patience holding him back, waiting for me.

I had felt the wolf before, had mind-spoken only the wolf-part sometimes, but there had been a line between what had been solely wolf and what I knew was Raven-who-was-also-wolf. Now it took me a moment to drop all my shielding and complete the link Raven held out to me. The way I had learned mind-speech was meant to pass words, worded thoughts, on a deeper level to maybe share emotions. I had adapted that to the Ashi'kha image-emotion mind-speech that was yet more intense than the closest bonds even lovers among my people could share. There were few shields, and less barriers of will. With the wolf, there was no distance at all, except the last barrier that was still between 'me' and 'you'. As Raven had said, it was just short of soul-bonding. I think for a moment we hovered at that edge hand in hand, wanting to leap. I don't know why we did not, then. We both stopped. Maybe if we had, we would have reached our final path easier and sooner. Maybe we needed not have gone to the Havens at all to see I could not go, as little as he could stay alone. But we halted, and I felt the wolf for the first time unshielded, unfiltered and completely. It was not like the time he had tried to show me how he defended himself against werewolves. Nothing slipped me now, both wolf and unfurred extended a link to me I could take and hold. With a jolt, I realized that right now I would be able to take control of him, force him to my will. And it was not even a question of my ruthlessness, because he felt no fear even though he knew I could. I shivered and balked, but Raven nudged me forward, forcing me to acknowledge and use the senses I knew the wolf had. I had to take some measure of control to stay in his mind. And then I looked through the wolf's eyes.

Had I been alone, I would have panicked. As it was, I was sharing his awareness, his sight, hearing, scent and I felt as the wolf did, but all the while I sensed Raven in this. I was able to draw on his presence as an interpreter for concepts that were completely alien to me. Only his presence was there to say 'you are sharing in this'. Otherwise I would I have been lost in a mind which again only by his presence was defined for me as 'the wolf'.

Our connection was so deep that I could not mind-speak Raven, which showed me startlingly how much mind-speech depended on distance. Raven had always denied he mind-spoke the wolf-part, though he sometimes described him also as separate of the unfurred one – now I knew he truly _never _mind-spoke the wolf-part. He felt him even more immediate as I did now, it was part _of_ him.

So I held myself in place and simply gave my awareness over to watching. I still remember that first time of sharing the wolf's being with a clarity that few memories still retain. If I wish to call it on, the whole night I was with him is there, but if I think of it consciously, I only remember crystal-clear glimpses.

Out two small rooms were large and high to the wolf, full of scents which yet belonged to things I too could identify. Beeswax, different furs, paper, wood and dust, mixed with the invariable scents of our personal belongings, and uncounted fainter smells and sounds.

I remember very clearly the wolf's trip through the halls and corridors of Imladris, because I saw with foreign eyes what I had seen for centuries with my own and had thought myself unendingly familiar with. The buildings were a maze of scents, ordered mainly by the feel and smell of their floors. The wolf drifted silent but for a faint click of claws on tiles and panels through the walkways, navigating the empty areas by scent and hearing. Sight was so unimportant in the dimness and with all the rich flavours to draw on that the wolf almost discarded it. When he smelled or heard others, he froze, melted into shadows until his path was deserted again.

There were torches in the corridors, and I saw the fire through his eyes, the one thing that flared brightly in his vision, painfully bright and flickering. For the first time I knew the undeniable and compelling terror the wolf had of fire. And resolved I would never tease him again with fire. To him, the difference if he _decided_ to light a fire, to enjoy a blaze, to carry a candle, or if he was suddenly and at unawares _confronted_ with fire was indeed vital.

Once in the gardens and the forest, there were only utterly alien concepts. Without Raven's presence I would not even have been able to remember them without understanding. As the wolf's picture of Imladris had been that of the forest was one of scents and sounds as well. I knew a blind wolf would not survive without luck and an extremely social pack, but Raven as wolf used sight only for rough navigation. The wind became more than the beautiful motion of air as which I mainly knew it. On the breeze wafted all scents that allowed the black to survive, that told him in which direction to turn, from which direction to approach either prey or enemy or friend. Other than Imladris, the forest was a maze he was at home in. Every scent, every sound had an image, every image a meaning. Rustles were so different in their sounds that he knew almost always which animal had caused which sound, or if it were only trees rubbing against each other.

Raven had warned me of the intensity of the hunt repeatedly. When we hunted together, I always waited until he either mind-spoke me first or dropped our shared prey before me before touching him. I would not risk the wolf thinking I was taking _his_ meat. So I was prepared for a much more unsettling experience actually being _with_ him and not just beside him hunting. The wolf alone scented, followed and chased the hare he ate that night. I was carried along on the ferocious flood of emotions and sharp reactions, and though I remember sequences, I cannot recall the minute images and cues that allowed the black to run at breakneck speed through forest, rocks and brambles and estimate just when the hare swerved where and just when to snap. There was elation and wild desire in the hunt, pleasure in the success, but no pleasure in the actual kill. The wolf killed quickly, neatly, and without triumph. The way the wolf hunted, I could vouch afterwards, was free of any feeling of either triumph, hate or pity. It was the Way, because he was hungry, and he ran and chased for the kill he made, a kill, his satisfaction after hunting told me, he could just as well have lost in the chase.

The one time I lost complete track of him was, to my surprise, not in the hunt but when the wolf caught the faint voices of a pack howling far away. The flood of deep emotions that came with hearing and answering those voices, and more with hearing them answer him, passed me by in its meaning completely. Raven understood, and I knew then that I had spoken complete truth to Elrond. Nothing in the wolf as he referred to the beast could I not find in myself as well - except the deep understanding of other wolves. That was where I would always fail to follow Raven completely. He might teach me certain sounds and howls as he was trying to, but as I was I would never be enough wolf myself to understand all their language. That notion had two ends and quickly turned around. Total understanding was based on that – as I failed to grasp the whole extent of wolf-tongue, Raven failed to grasp the whole extent of mine. Nothing separated so wonderfully as language. With the difference that the wolf was content to _not_ _use_ language if it was insufficient. In that, relying on his nose and instinct, he understood me better than I would ever understand him.

When the wolf- no, when we returned that night to our room, and our connection faded to a point where I came back to myself still lying in bed, I felt both happier and more sad than ever. I was as exhausted as if I had physically run with him. The wolf lay down beside me as he had done so many times in the wild, and I rolled over and held him in my arms. Even as I was aware of his presence and warmth beside me, I shared his awareness of the room, the houses and the people, even the forests beyond the building. It was a curious double-vision, but better than to give up our connection wholly. We did not break that link we had, and fell asleep together. Rationally I knew I dreamed, and I dreamed as the wolf did, but I remember none of my – our – dreams that night. Wolf-dreams are warm and fuzzy, and there are no nightmares. For a wolf, sleep is rest and oblivion. I know Raven remembers some of what the wolf dreams, but he agreed that he does not dream evil.

I woke late, very late, and mostly because there was a wonderful smell. One that was wonderful without the immediate access to the wolf's nose, which, I realized then, had faded overnight. I sat up and found Raven sitting at the foot of the bed with his back to the frame, holding a mug from which the smell came.

"I was told you like this" he said quietly "The cook said it was only the specialty of midwinter-feast that Imladris traded for this stuff"

I took the mug coffee gratefully "I love this" I said "Yes. Thank you"

The silence stretched between us. I had no words for anything I had experienced, that we had shared. But I was still Elda, and I needed words.

So I asked "What do your people call that…what we did?"

Raven glanced at me "We have no word for it"

I gave a wry laugh, and he smiled cautiously "So now you can tell them what it is like to be wolf"

"I can tell them what it is like to be with the mind of an Ashi'kha" I corrected after a while "The final understanding of…the wolves will always only be yours"

"Not completely either" Raven said softly "Wild wolves have no concept of being wolves. Remember? To be wholly wolf I would have to be unaware that I am one. What they know is not 'I am wolf' or 'I am Ashi'kha', but 'I am I' and 'I am one of my pack-mates'"

I watched him for a while, sitting there cross-legged on the bed, his arms resting lightly on his knees. He seldom sprawled anywhere, except when he slept as wolf, and then only when he did not roll into his customary small ball and covered his nose with his tail-tip. Furred or unfurred he always kept the ends of his body close to himself, reducing the space he took up.

"How old are you?" I asked abruptly.

Raven blinked, then dropped his head, embarrassed "Younger than you"

"I did not mean it that way. You never told me"

"I know the history of your people now" he said after a while "When we were driven north, the earth shook, and when we returned, the lands we knew were changed very much. It must have been the year of the War of Wrath, as you call it"

I gave a small nod. That corresponded roughly to what I had assumed. Give or take forty years. Well, it didn't matter.

"Maybe if I can't have words I need numbers" I said wryly, and he laughed.

"I can make very little use of either" Raven shook off the loose gown he had worn to visit the Great Hall, moving across the bed. Wolf or not, he could move like a cat.

"I know you can do very well without either" I said.


	62. Chapter 62 Morning Mist

**Morning Mist**

somewhere between the Trollshaws and the Weather Hills, September 18th & 29th TA 3021

Raven's POV

The night I had returned from Joy's pack and entered Rivendell I had been afraid to approach Gildor. I did not feel frightened now, but very nearly. Awkward. I went in search of Faire, knowing we were about to move on at dusk to a near glade where there was more room for a camp. I found her in a pine forest, which was redolent of resin heating in the afternoon sun. Light fell in shafts through the high canopy, making the forest seem larger than it actually was. Late midges danced in the streams of light. This was a slow, leisurely travel, without fights and scouting tours. Faire's long mane and tail flowed smooth and silky, streaming in the wind of her speed when she ran. The paler fur gleamed white, while her dappled legs, rump and shoulders seemed like a shadow about her. In the light and dark play of the forest she looked unearthly, phantom-like as her name, as if she were really two beings.

She was not alone. Gildor stood beside her, looking away into the forest across her back. He wore flowing, silver-grey robes of the kind his people seemed to favour, and he did not do it graciously. More than once I heard him mutter and swear under his breath when he tripped on the hem, rising too fast or catching it on bushes. Why he still wore them I could not say, but I suspected. Running with a pack I would fur if I had the choice – travelling with his people, knowing he would have to stay with them, maybe Gildor was trying to blend in as well.

Gildor and his people sat up during the night. I crouched in the shadows of the forest, away from the faint silver moonlight illuminating the clearing. In long, long years this was the first time that I thought that again. Gildor and his people. The difference between us was clearly visible now, and growing with each step we came closer to the havens.

Whatever they were debating, whatever memories they were sharing, it was things I knew I could not begin to understand. I was as frightened as I had only been once in my life. I was losing my hold again, it seemed, slowly but steadily.

Light wind rustled in the branches. I glanced up at the black net of leaves and twigs swaying in the breeze. It was the same wind that touched the speakers in the clearing, I knew, but somehow it felt as if it blew from another world. One that I was in alone.

Glorfindel's POV

We travelled slow and comfortably, making long camps and enjoying the fair weather. We encountered no danger, except the scars and remains of the long war. The only one always wary and looking for telltale traces was Raven. He relieved most of his tension in hunting, and was always in front, behind and around our company, following trails, bringing back prey, gathering whatever edible things he could find. We never had a night without a sound meal.

Gildor spoke little, but Raven was silent as stone. He avoided any chance that someone might speak to him, and when we rested he was there only during the evening meal. He and Gildor sat side by side then silently, and if they spoke, it was in Raven's own hissing language. When the travellers drifted off into groups, Raven melted into the night and only reappeared either in the morning or if we continued our slow march towards the sea.

Night after night passed. Gildor sat with us, his head bowed, listening. If he was not addressed by name, he would not speak at all. He also kept his own mind carefully shut against us. Though he was nursing more than doubts he never said as much, never tried to stall for time as many others did, slowing the journey to say farewell to what had been our home for centuries. He was torn in two and I knew it, but there was nothing I could do. That was a battle only he could fight. But I feared to think of the outcome.

Then one night, there was a shadow at the edge of the clearing, and the wolf came towards us. He lay down beside Gildor, and rested his head in his lap, closing his eyes. I saw Gildor's hand dig into the thick ruff, but he did not stir otherwise.

When I could bear it no more, I went out at night alone, walking into the high, ancient trees that surrounded us until I was far from the camp. Through the lightening canopy, I could see the clear night-sky, full of stars. There was a time when I had been able to walk out of the light of the Two Trees through a high cleft in the surrounding cliffs, right into the starlit dark over the seas. Soon, there would be such a time again. Regret and relief kept their balance. I, at least, wished to go.

I knelt at the foot of large oak, and let my mind drift until I could feel my own quiet like the calm of a still pond. With my eyes closed, I could see those starlit cliffs. The path was easy to walk.

"Orome…" I whispered "Varda… I plead your counsel. My friends suffer. Is there a sign? Is there hope? Help me, so I can help them"

And then I waited. The quiet surface of the pond that was my mind was not stirred. Around me, fog gathered, swirling thicker and thicker until there was only velvety greyness. I stood in that greyness, and absolute silence. Out of the mist, beyond the mist, I could see shapes, and the shadows of shapes. It was like looking at a tree in dense fog. The span of its branches was visible, but the true shape remained hidden. When I looked down, there were tracks. A straight line, vanishing in the fog, the way a hunting wolf walks. And they were paw-prints.

Late the next morning I intercepted Raven and Gildor as they came down to the stream near our current camp.

"May I have a word with you?" I said "Both of you"

Gildor made a very strange gesture, one I had never seen with him. He turned his head to the side and looked down. It might have been irritation, but he lacked the defiance for that. I reached out to make him raise his head, meet my eyes.

"The future is veiled" I said abruptly "The age of our people is ending, and beyond that, all lies in fog to me. But I speak true, because I saw not for myself but for you. You walk that path into the fog together. But there is only one set of tracks leading to that goal. Wolf tracks. There is hope. Keep to that, both of you"

Gildor swallowed "A shape in the mist…" he whispered "Vague hopes often deceive. More cruelly than despair from the beginning could be"

"Gildor" I almost begged "For once listen to me with an open heart"

"I do" he said quietly after a moment "But I am afraid"

"I…I think so. You must walk that path yourself, and walk it to the end. Go to the edge of the sea, and only then you will know. Face this together. There is no other way. There is only that vague hope of which I cannot see the heart. I only know this: in the end, it will be to your joy"

Gildor looked at me for a long moment, standing there with his arms around Raven. For one moment then, I saw and knew that he was still Calathaura of Valinor as much as he was Kil'thor of wolf clan. He gave a small nod, and finally spoke the ancient words "I hear you. I will heed you"

Raven's POV

I left the camp while everyone else was still asleep. At least, everyone who was not elven. I was fleeing, and would have admitted it had anyone asked.

So far no one had got a chance to do so. There was nothing to say.

Far from the camp I stopped, undressed and shoved the garments into the forked branch of a beech. As wolf, I went further away from the camp without disturbing the quiet of the early morning. Greyish light lay on the land, and a few first birds started to sing.

Between the scattered knolls of trees where we camped were meadows. In the afternoon, these were full of chirping and rustling insects, but right now, the high grasses were glittering with dew, and thick mists curled over the ground.

In the middle of one of these meadows a white horse grazed, leisurely, hardly visible when the light breeze stirred the mist and blew them in shreds across the meadow. I stopped, looking towards Fairё with a feeling of desperation.

_Phantoms of the mist and shapes of the night, that is what we have become_ I thought darkly _That is all that will remain._

Glorfindel had spoken of hope, Gildor of despair. I wanted the one as strongly as I felt the other. I considered approaching Faire, but decided against it. She was having her own troubles, her own decisions. The mare was so deep in thought she did not even notice me drifting past her meadow, though the wind was in her favour.

We were both following him, I realized. With the one difference that she could go with him across the sea, and I wouldn't.

Interminable time later we approached the sea. Interminable time later, the sun set.

Our last night.

We had been here before, not so long ago.

_Do you forget the hawk, even for a while? –_

I had forgotten it, both the hawk and the sea, willingly and with a vengeance. Had wanted to forget it.

_Ravens don't cross the sea. _Seldom the bent ones, never the straight. That last night we walked away from the others, away from the camp, until we were out of sight of the towers as well.

In silence, without speaking, without thinking as well.

There was nothing to say, no words to say what could be said, maybe should be said.

Wolves seldom ponder. But not even the black could face this without horror, without fright. Before him, before me, everything was dark.

That was a thought, and a threatening one. I cut it off, and stopped thinking again.

Nothing mattered anymore, not what the others thought, not what they might think, see or assume. Anything of that was pointless, worthless, when it was the sea we were facing.

We made love in the dunes, desperately, defiantly, lying together until the sun rose.

There was never a break in the continual, regular roar of the sea. The sun rose, and we had to leave.

Silently once more, clutching each other's hand.

_Ravens don't cross the sea. Neither did wolves. _

I did not remember reaching the quay, letting go of Gildor's hand, I did not even remember the others walking towards the ship.

At one time I was just standing there and wondering if I should feel despair or hate for the circumstances, because I could see no hope, no matter how I stared into the fog threatening to strangle me.

_Ravens don't cross the sea_, Fingal had said.

He had been definitely right with that.

_The Valar are not fair_, so he had also said.

And so far, he had been painfully right with that as well.

4


	63. Chapter 63 The Grey Havens

_Am I dreaming or am I awake_

_Please don't leave me_

_No not again_

_Well I shall follow_

_Wherever you will go_

_I know the answer_

_To bring the end_

_As you are today I now will be_

_As we go today we shall be free_

**The Grey Havens**

September 29th TA 3021

Gildor's POV

The Grey Havens.

Mithrandir still stood on the quay with the periannath. A few had already gone aboard.

There was never silence by the sea.

Now, the water lapped against the ship's hull, the stones of the quay. The wind broke in the many lines of the sails, flapped a few loose ends.

High above, gulls glided and cried their wailing calls. Everything seemed clear cut, as if rimmed with black lines.

The firm ground ended and wooden planks formed the part of the quay reaching across the water. Below, there was the sea already. The boards on which I stood were bent and weathered – I could see down to the sea between them.

_Ravens don't cross the sea._

I looked at the ship, the pale wooden slabs of the smooth hull, the white, still furled sails. The sunlight of afternoon was dazzling on the ever moving sea, and I had to look away, staring at nothing particular.

For a while, my course had seemed clear. The ringbearers went. All of them. Glorfindel went. E_ven Shadowfax._

Then there had come Celeborn, and here were his farewells also.

So he was staying. The sea did not call to him as it did to Galadriel.

The sea certainly called to me, but, I wondered, was that enough?

You crossed only once. And in one direction.

_I never said I would go, did I? _

_Raven thinks it. I made him think so._

_I was never sure myself – maybe if he thought I would go, I had hoped, it would be more real for me._

A lot came to my mind, but I remembered most the peaks of far mountains, seen from a land of thick grass and wide plains with patches of dense, moist forests.

The air flimmering in the heat of summer days, the smell of each particular season.

The taste of frost in icy nights full of stars.

I remembered Silmarusse, but I knew she was dead – even if I went west, she would not be there.

_Ravens don't cross the sea -_

_Are there wolves in Aman? Why did I not know that?_

_Raven stands at the edge of the boards, silent as a rock. _

_He will not come here, will not speak. _

_It is my decision, and damn right he is leaving it to me._

I keep telling me that even as I remember standing with him before the fire at midwinter. Even as I remember for once sharing the wolf's body, the warm, unbounded awareness of a world full of scents and sounds, the feeling of unlimited energy. Without realizing it, I had taken a few steps back from the edge of the quay. I bumped into something – someone – and whirled. Elrond stood behind me, the dark grey cloak wrapped tightly around his shoulders. Caught for a moment in the memories, I tried to remember the warrior of the Last Alliance, the commander of more than three thousand years of the sun ago.

I could recall orc blood and the stench of battle. Middle-earth was one huge battle field, drenched in the blood of centuries of war.

I could also recall the touch of glossy wolf fur.

The black running on the ice of a lake in midwinter.

Raven sitting on a window ledge one stormy night in autumn, the buildings of Rivendell below.

The wild elation we had shared when he had let me into his mind without reservations so we both could be wolf.

After a moment, I looked up into Elrond's eyes.

"If you cannot let go, don't wrench it away" he said softly.

"This is the last ship" I could barely hear my own voice. "There will be none else after this"

For a moment, Elrond looked away over the sea.

"No" he corrected. "You stay. Celeborn does. Others do as well. Other elves are there still. Other ships will follow" Elrond smiled wryly "I would ask you to come with us, because it seems right. But it wouldn't be fair, would it?"

"What is fair anyway? Not even the Valar are"

_I knew he would look at me like this. This must be the way _I _looked at Raven when he first said that to me. But damn, Elrond, you of all the world should understand the feeling._

_He does. For a moment he looks angry, but then he shakes his head and looks back at the ship. _

"Maybe that is so. And maybe you are mistaken and they are fairer yet than we guess"

_Can they give you your daughter back_? I wanted to say._ No. Were they willing to grant Aragorn what they gave Beren? No. How can they even understand what life means to mortals, they who never die? What this world means to us, who are bound to it until time itself falters? They who never came here after they had finished it?_

Now I was not being fair, I knew it. Orome had come here after, and so had Ulmo. For our sake. And because they loved what they had made. But this solved little for me right now. It was Ulmo's sea that soured every waking moment, and sometimes even my dreams. And then it was the wild counterpart of Orome's hounds that acted as compensation at the other end of the lever. I longed for that being with a depth that suddenly gave me the strength to step back even further from the quay.

"Well, I will find out" Elrond said suddenly, turning to me "Farewell, Gildor Inglorion. Wherever it is, may you find what you seek"

_The decision has been made for me, I realize. He does, too. And grins. He stands on the edge of Middle-earth and, for all the world, grins at me! I want to tell him not to call me that. I have ceased being Inglor's son when I stood with Silmarusse before the assembled court in Valinor. Maybe I could have made it up. Maybe father would have wanted to make it up. After his temper and mine had cooled for a few centuries. _

_Elrond knows, and still he chooses that name. Wherever, he says. Maybe whatever would be more to the point. I do not know what it is, where it is – if it is even there at all. _

"Never know what you want, gypsy, do you?" Elrond whispered, leaning close to me. _Erestor's words. The only elf I know being content to spend all his time in Rivendell. The only one able to quip at wanderers like me without superiority, but with spectacular non-understanding. _

"Go" I said, smiling despite myself and embracing him "Where you go, you may find peace"

Voices murmured behind me. One of the periannath wept quietly. I watched Elrond walking up the white plank serving as gangway and disappear into the ship.

All sound seemed to get drowned out by the ever-whispering sea.

Suddenly Glorfindel stood beside me. I knew without looking. No matter how changed, Glorfindel was still Glorfindel. And still remembered, just as I did.

I would never have had the courage to face those years in speech, not even now. But Glorfindel had finally started the talk, and we had talked quite some things during the journey here.

Not that it ever had helped to decide.

_Do not give up the hope, _he had said a few days ago_. The road into the future is veiled, but you are walking it together._

"This is goodbye, then?" I said. I think he had known I would not come – would not be able to leave – long before I knew it. He alone knew how much I not only needed the wolf, but how much I accepted that longing. He alone knew that for just once, I had been closer than ever before to its fulfilment.

Glorfindel was silent for a long moment. The sea-wind stirred his unbound hair, blew it from his face. Pure gold, not mixed with red like mine. Nothing fitted the concept of _khai'toh_ as Raven had explained it to me better than Glorfindel did at this moment. Another longing seized on me. The west. The white city. The wide, green land. My own people. I closed my eyes, summoning another picture to block out that chimera. I thought black wings fluttered around me, but when I opened my eyes again it was only the strong sea-breeze.

"I think there is more to your wolves than just teeth and fur" Glorfindel said after a moment "You should find out what"

"You are leaving" I repeated, without knowing what I meant to say. I just could find no final words to say. If I did, it would be over "That is what I should do as well-"

"I am returning" Glorfindel corrected me "And you only need to look inside to know that is what you cannot do"

I am returning. _To what_, I wondered. _A land of tamed hills and governed life? _

Glorfindel smiled, though he looked sad. From the time we had been lovers, the time before – the cliff – he had obviously retained the ability to read even my guarded mind. But he made no answer to the unspoken question.

"Elrond was right" he said instead, looking away. "I do not leave in sorrow. There may come a time when you will feel the same. Wait, and do not end your stay in regret. Wait, and keep that hope so maybe such a time will never come"

Again, he turned to look at me "You have changed. And by that you have also gained time. Maybe now, you may enjoy it without the shadow. You need the wolves. Especially one. And he needs you as well" Glorfindel raised his hand to touch my face lightly "I ask you again to keep hope. Farewell, Brother Wolf. And fare free"

I flinched involuntarily at the Ashi'kha name. The realization of the end. There was a familiar smile on my friend's face, betraying the amused knowledge that he had surprised me. I wanted to answer something, tell him I still loved him, what ever.

But how could I, say so to someone who had returned from Mandos? Have it come from me who also knew I loved Raven -

Things were simply too complicated.

Nothing to say.

There was nothing to say.

Or rather, there were no words for what we wanted to say. What I wanted to say.

To each of them.

"_I came there as I was, and I returned as I was" Glorfindel had said a few days ago, when we had spoken for a long time, once again. "Had our love been damnable, would I have been allowed to return? Would I have been sent back? There were enough others to choose from for sending back"_

_But it had been a question. Obviously, Mandos had never seen fit to tell Glorfindel. _

_Back to my place, I've got nothing to say._

_What _is _my place, though?_

I hugged Glorfindel for a long moment, thinking I would never find the strength to let go.

"I know what I am in for, Gildor. I am glad to go back" Glorfindel finally released me and made a small gesture towards the land "You've got one more farewell coming" And then he was gone, going up the plank with firm, quick strides. I turned, knowing, but not realizing what he meant until she stepped on the planks and the boards rang dully under her hooves.

"Oh Faire, damn it all" I did not care what the others saw or thought. What did they know what she meant to me? She had already taken farewell of Raven. There were white hairs clinging to his black coat.

I went towards her and embraced her neck, pressing against her warm body and breathing the scent of clean horse-fur. Her long silky mane was swept around me as she lowered her head over my shoulder to press her cheek against my back. Tears stung my eyes now. She had been with me from the beginning. The very beginning. And she had been there while everything around me went down in ruin. She had been there after Silmarusse's death, and after Gondolin. She had been there when Eregion was overrun. She went to Imladris with me, and she had followed me through the wild for uncounted years. She had not only been mount and pack horse, she had been my partner in battle, and my companion. In Imladris they had teased those interested in more than my company that they would have to share their place with Faire.

Though I certainly could not confirm the teasers' implication, any partner I might have chosen would have had to accept that things were shared with Faire that I would not broach with him. Raven – or should I say the black? – had never once questioned that.

'Do you remember the landslide?' she asked me 'When you first ran into Kela'shin?' I took a moment to realize what she was saying. Not the images she usually sent, but carefully worded mind-speech. I swallowed, but my throat was too tight to speak 'I – Kela'shin? – How -'

She whickered softly. I could feel it more than hear it over the wind. Slowly, I released her, and she stepped back, raising her head so she looked down on me with one eye, amused 'You were right, he never reproached us for keeping things from him. But there were things he obviously told me before he told you' She would have grinned smugly now, I knew, imparting this choice bit of information 'It was nice talking to four-legged for a change – my world and yours are quite different after all'

I shook my head in disbelief "Faire, after so many centuries you still come out with things I wish you could have told me when I could have put them to better use than to fret over mistakes I made. _You_ could have had things easier. For yourself"

She tossed her head in denial, then she flattened her ears slightly 'Tell me. You remember?'

"Of course I do" I cupped her silky muzzle in my hands, unable to imagine she would be gone soon.

'I could not follow _you_ then. _You_ had to go with him – and you know how much that changed things for you. Us. And where you go now, I can't go either. Ashi'kha territory is rocky. I can climb, but I am no mountain goat. I know what it looks like, Kela'shin showed me'

She paused, and I could only stare at her. Her warm breath puffed into my hands, and I dreaded the moment she would pull her head up.

'I wish I could go with you' she said, pushing her head against my chest so I could touch her neck and ears. Neither wolves nor horses can cry, but I could feel her pain as keenly as I knew she could feel mine. I held on to her mane when she looked up slowly 'But now you can't follow _me _either. _I _have things to do. I do not know what, or why – but I am called. And I know it will be good'

"Who calls you?" I wanted to ask but only managed a whisper "Orome?" It was years and years, I realized, since I had spoken that name.

'I do not know. I just know I must go for my own sake. And for yours'

"For mine?" I could not keep incredulity out of my voice. If she went, the only constant in my life would be gone "You sound just like Altariel"

Faire whickered again, her equivalent of a chuckle 'No' she said, answering to my thought 'The wolf. He stays. And yes, for your sake'

"I do not understand"

'Neither do I'

I rubbed the whorl of hair between her eyes. She was right. Raven would stay, and because of him, _I_ stayed. It would be harder, and far worse, if I knew she did not go freely. I just could not let her go.

'Gildor?' Faire made a small motion with her head.

We were the last on the quay. The periannath had withdrawn to the road, where the firm ground ended and the planks of the quay began. As if they feared the boards might break away and plunge them into the sea. I could very much sympathize.

This was the only time Faire had ever addressed me by my name. I looked around, and found Raven had ventured out to us. He almost walked gingerly on the boards, glancing down at the gaps between them. If he had been wolf at the moment his ears would have been flattened and his ruff standing on end. I could almost see the black's image before me. Raven halted and looked at me uncertainly, then at Faire.

"My lady" he sounded hoarse. Faire dipped her head to him, once, almost like a bow. A motion I had seen her make only once – when the Balrog had waylaid us on Cirith Thoronath, and Glorfindel ordered her to shoulder the stemmed flood of terrified fugitives forward and away from the demon. A final farewell.

'I must go' She turned her head to be able to look into my eyes. Her mane slipped from my grasp with the motion, and I forced myself not to hold on. For a moment, I saw something in her eyes that made me shiver. Not with fear, though I could not name the feeling. It was too brief, and all I could do was not to run after her as she turned and slowly ascended the plank to the ship, taking a place beside Shadowfax.

I looked at Raven, and he returned my gaze. For the first time I could remember there was a blank space between us. Not even anger was there. At some point today we must have had closed each other out, and I suddenly felt like facing an absolute stranger. Raven's stormy grey eyes betrayed nothing of either wolf or elf.

The journey here had been a strain on both of us, an endless stream of unfinished farewells and uncertainties. When we had left Rivendell, all the way long, I had never found a decision. The others were leaving. I had thought I would, too. But I had never consciously decided, not until a few moments ago. I looked for reproach in his eyes, relief, anything. But he presented me only with the wolf, did not reach out or close the space between us. I looked after the ship, dwindling into the distance. They had raised the sails on leaving the harbour, and the wind drove the ship speedily out of sight now. A colourless haze hung over the further sea, and despite the bright glitter on the waves, I could not keep track of the ship. For a moment, I felt completely lost and out of place here, almost doubting my decision. Raven gave me no clue, and it hurt. I blinked tears from my eyes angrily. He stood beside me, staring fixedly into the haze beyond the blinding glitter on the water.

Elrohir spoke our names. We turned, suddenly aware that evening seemed to have fallen behind us and on the land. The only light remaining glittered on the sea. The twins occupied the driver's seat of the cart in which the ringbearers had driven here now, the horse in front of it dozing and oblivious to what was going on. They looked haunted. Their goodbyes had already been said.

We climbed into the back of the cart and Elrohir turned the horse into the wide lane, away from the sea.

I caught Raven's eyes. The dark elf looked at me for a long moment, as if he wanted to say something. He did not, and dropped his gaze to stare along the road.

We drove far into the night. Thick mist curled around the stones along the road and gathered on the fields on the side. The clatter of the horse's hooves seemed loud in the night and no one spoke.

I lay back against the cart's side and shut my eyes. Where was that land of the distant mountains? I had been there with Raven, in summer, when the grass was high and full of ripe seeds –. We had watched the geese gather and fly southward in long lines -. There had been a great thunderstorm, taking two days to build up, with huge towers of greyish white clouds-.

I did not notice the hooves stopping. Only when the horse whinnied loudly I jerked out of my reverie. A second later Raven touched my arm lightly, the brief contact sending a jolt through me. I must have looked startled, because I saw puzzlement on his face.

The mist was so thick now I could not see further than a few feet into the night. There was a large building with many windows, most of which were dark. A few answering whinnies sounded from the stables in the yard.

"We stop for now" the Raven said, making a small gesture to the inn. The first words he had spoken to me all day. I could not read the sign or remember the name, but I remembered staying here before-. On some way to the White Towers. Before the war-.

I followed Raven off the wagon, stretching stiff muscles.

Elladan came out of the door, the innkeeper and his aide on his heels. Quietly, the man lead the horse into the yard and Elladan gestured us inside. Some patrons still sat at a last mug of ale and watched us curiously. A sleepy-looking barmaid handed us keys and led the way up a dim staircase into a long corridor, trying to hide her curious glances. She opened the door to two small rooms side by side and promised to bring a light meal and washing water.

Only half my mind seemed to care for what was going on around me. I found myself uneasy being faced with the prospect of sharing a room with Raven. That was so absurd. There were things to clear between us alright, and I almost reached out to hold him back and talk to him.

Almost.

I sat up twining a length of sinew into a bow-string. Faire. Knowing she was gone made me feel as if I had swallowed poison. She left an aching emptiness I had never expected would be there. There had been long moons when we had not been together, many times we had gone our separate ways. I had never felt like this.

Because now she was gone forever. It felt like this. I stared at the bowstring. It was impossible to think of staying here. It was also impossible to think of leaving.

Raven did not even pretend to sleep either. He sat against the head-board of his bed and stared through the window. The moon was nearly full and a bright silver patch moved slowly across the linen while the moon rose higher. Mist settled thickly on the ground, and dawn came slowly, it seemed, with a grey-white pearly light as the mists rose and dew settled on everything outside.

We left early, well provided with cold meat, fresh bread and fruit wrapped in a bundle of cloth. Elrohir had some problems convincing the horse to leave the stable and the other horses so soon. Raven took the opportunity to escape the cart and taking the horse by the bridle walked in front beside the mare.

Even the twins could muster no heart to joke, but at least they were not as relentlessly silent as Raven. With him leading the horse the three of us were free to sit in the back of the wagon, but we barely talked. We briefly discussed the route we wanted to take, things that needed to be done on returning to Imladris. Facts. Neither of us could yet bear to mention the Havens.

The road wound through tended fields dotted with holdings here and there. We met only few travellers, most of them periannath or men, crossing from their fields to their homes or back. We avoided the next large village and left the road for a narrow path through the fields. Water had washed deep rills into the ground on both sides where the carts' wheels usually ran, and we fled the cart as it rumbled and wobbled along.

It was deep dusk, and a new thin mist curled on the ground when we neared the forest edge and struck a smooth path leading on between the trees.

These forests were tended and used for wood regularly, so there was little dead wood or undergrowth, and the paths were kept in repair. Raven left to hunt as soon as we had made camp and tethered the horse on a long line to graze.

Elrohir left to fetch water and see if he could find some mushrooms, and returned with two pheasants and a squirrel. They had been killed by the wolf. When I asked, Elrohir said the black was going to stay out and hunt 'other things' for himself. I knew he meant mice, but right then I would have happily watched the black eat mice. This silence and distance between us became unbearable.

Raven did not appear, and we had finished a subdued meal of roast meat. Elladan disappeared into the trees to take the first watch and Elrohir, sensing my unwillingness to speak, rolled up in his blanket and turned his back to me.

I had not meant to fall asleep, but found that I had when I woke from a dark dream of disconnected images. Mist curled thickly on the ground again, and everything was cold and damp. My left side was warm, because Raven had curled up there. I lay still for a moment, not knowing what to do, how to begin. His silence at the Havens had hurt me. Right, probably there was nothing he could have said. But he had not even attempted to cross the sudden gulf between us, and I felt he had left me adrift the one moment I had really needed only him.

No. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. I had never given him clarity. All the way from Lorien, to Imladris, and then to the Havens, he had never known what I would do. And he had had needed me just as well, maybe even more. He had never said as much, but I had listened well and read between his lines. Faire's going hurt, and left me bereaved – but I would cope. I knew that. My going, I had gathered, would leave him far more alone. He had been careful not to say so, tried to keep it from me, but I knew what he really meant when he said it was only me keeping him here. He was not talking about Imladris, as he had wanted to make me believe. Probably he was not even really talking about choosing the wolf completely. The Other Wind. He would do what he had tried when Fingal's death had left him half mad. Only now he would do it in quite his right mind, and effectively. My own indecision had kept him dangling on a thread I knew he was gathering the courage to cut once I was really gone.

I should have known all along this could not end well. Indeed, I had said so in the very beginning. But then I had not been able to see how much in earnest he had meant what he had said, had thought he would find his own determination to live once the terrible agony of his soulmate and brother's death had worn off a little.

Also, I should have known for myself, all along, that I could not go into the west. Not with knowing what he would do. Of course he had tried to hide that from me, so the knowledge would not interfere with my decision – and I had been too dense to see his scheme. Still, it had taken to go to the Havens to show me that.

And no problem had been solved. I still knew I could not stay forever. Already I could feel the sea pulling at me, seizing me at unwary moments. Suggesting a longing my waking mind told me was fake. I remembered the west, and I knew what had befallen there – what I longed for was gone, gone beyond recall. If ever I come there, I would find a changed world. Yes, even the west would have changed. What I longed for was a memory – and if I wanted to live in the west just to see there what could never be as I remembered – then I could just as well stay here. Because here I could live, and make new memories. So I had told Raven in the beginning, when he had contemplated every knife he saw with longing. So he had flung the words back at me when I had thought I could and should never love him.

And here we were – not even talking to each other.

I stuck my knuckles into my eyes, willing some solution. He must have been awake himself. He sat up when he felt the slight motion as I lowered my arms. I took a breath to speak before my courage failed, but he reached out and laid a hand lightly over mouth.

"Listen to me first. I am sorry. But you are so – unreachable, and it…it feels like we have said goodbye, and now I don't know how to start again. You are sad, and I have no comfort for that. Forgive me" He faltered and leant down to embrace me, hard. His hair fell over my face, smelling faintly of pine needles and forest. I pulled him closer and tried to fight down tears.

"We have been saying goodbye" I said when I could speak again "All the way from Imladris two years ago and to the Havens"

_And we will keep saying goodbye again until the sea becomes stronger than me, and all I can do is sail or become in truth what Faire had been named after in reverence – a ghost, a phantom, a wreath of smoke on the wind. The Valar aren't fair, and damn if Elrond still tells me yes! _Bitterness welled up inside me, and I bit my lip to keep from snarling in rage. Raven's breath tickled across my chest, quick and uneven puffs. He was fighting for control as well.

_We have time. All the time I can fight out of this, we have it. _

"Time" Raven hissed "What is time? My time is not my own. I can not slow it, change it, or quicken its pace. Time simply passes! And all control we have is to end it when we wish!"

I had not known he could read my mind as well. I was so surprised, I was angry for a moment "Since when can you do that?"

"Since you are shouting your thoughts at me without shields" he snapped "And since you idiot tied your own life force to me to save my bloody pelt in Lorien"

I stared at him for a moment, unable to form a coherent thought.

"Wolves do not count time" I said finally.

"I do" Raven bit the words off "and for all the time that is left to us, I spent too much of it waiting and avoiding you"

"It was not your fault-"

"No? Remember, I _can _read your mind, and I know I wasn't there when you needed me"

"Raven-"

"No. I can never make that up. All I can do is ask you to forgive me. Will you?"

"Gods, dark elf" I pulled Raven down beside me and pressed him to me "If anything, we must forgive each other" He lay still for a while, just clinging to me.

"Take me with you, will you?" I said finally "To your people"

"Yes" he said softly "I will. I will…trust in the hope Glorfindel spoke of"

Chapter Notes:

Quote at the beginning from the song "Step into the Light" by Kenziner (album "Timescape")

In the "Grey Havens" in _The Return of the King _the sons of Elrond are of course not part of the Last Riding of the Keepers of the Rings. Neither is it really clear if Glorfindel (or Cirdan) went west at that time – Glorfindel is not mentioned by name among the Riders (while Gildor is), neither is Cirdan explicitly said to go aboard. For this story I assume that Glorfindel did leave.


	64. Chapter 64 Chasing the Night

**Chasing the Night, Running from Darkness**

4th Age 1, near Greenwood

Gildor's POV

_"On the sea, on the ocean, on the island, on Bujan,_

_on the empty pasture gleams the moon,_

_on an ashstock lying in a green wood, in a gloomy vale._

_Toward the stock wandereth a shaggy wolf, horned cattle seeking for his sharp white fangs; but the wolf enters not the forest, but the wolf dives not into the shadowy vale._

_Moon, moon, gold-horned moon,_

_check the flights of bullets, blunt the hunters' knifes, break the shepherds' cudgels, cast wild fear upon all cattle, on men, on all creeping things, that they may not catch the gray wolf, that they may not rend his warm skin!_

_My word is binding, more binding than sleep, more binding than the promise of a hero."_

_Russian Charm_

_The black crouched in the shadows surrounding a clearing. A group of human hunters stood there, back to back, peering into the darkness around them. They carried torches, and the reek of burning tar almost made him sneeze. Also, they stank of blood, and fear. Blood of wolves, but the fear was their own. They were frightened, of the night, of the wolves, of the black wolf that was part of the night. Elation made him quiver. The wolf wanted to leap, leap now, and kill. But there was the matter of fire, and an unwolvish reasoning that kept him back. _

_Then there were howls, crashing underbrush, the hunters turned into the direction of the sounds, and the black started forward, half frightened, half furious. The heat of fire, the scent and taste of blood, and the screams of men and the wolf's own fear mingled in a maddening maelstrom._

I started awake, flinging the covers aside reflexively. It took me a moment to sort out dream and reality, see where I was. Alone, at the edge of the camp, where I had spread my bedroll under a large pine, so that the layer of dry needles on the ground kept the cold away. The icy night-air hit me like a load of water, cooling the sweat on my skin. I swore, pushing my hair back and staring into the quiet darkness for a while until my breath calmed. The wolf – Raven – was alive. I would know if it were otherwise. But the dream had been cruelly vivid. Had I watched through the wolf's eyes? Had I just caught an echo of _his _dreams, seen what the black might desire?

Nahar's balls! I swore again and got up, snatching my shirt. No use going back to sleep now.

The camp was still asleep, mostly. A few sat around the fire, playing dice. The guards were invisible. I walked to the small brook to wash, then rounded the camp aimlessly, walking out of the light cast by the scattered fires. The hunter's moon had passed and winter was coming swiftly. The days grew steadily shorter and the light acquired a thinly golden quality. The smell of frost was in the air, and the trees were bare. A crispy carpet of leaves covered the forest floor. In the morning thick mists crept over the ground, fading only when the sun rose higher. Hunting would now become harder. The easy prey of young ones would have grown and learned to be careful. No animal was as yet weakened by lasting snow and cold.

Yet it was clear still, and the mountain heights free of snow. Winter, always winter. Year after year passed. The Ashi'kha counted the years in winters.

Leaving, waning, that was what winter was to them. And always, winter contained the next spring. That their legends said also. In winter, the nights were longest, and clearest. _Akh'khair'lar_, the starlit dark, then conquered the Nighteater, bound his light and let it fall glittering to the earth. Winter, I told myself, was a season of beauty. As much as was spring or any other time of the year.

Winter was not a reason to think of leaving.

Our travelling group was slower than we had expected. We had stayed in one place for a long while during high summer, and so we had barely managed to cross the mountains before the passes would be snowed in. A few days more now, and we would reach the edge of Greenwood where Raven and I planned to leave the group and go on eastward. I walked aimlessly and inattentive, straight into a thorn-thicket. When I untangled myself my shirt tore and dry thorns came loose to stick to it. For the third time tonight I found reason to swear heartily, though silently. Irritated and frustrated I went back to my bedroll and cut the torn garment into pieces to use for rags. Somehow I was starting to run out of shirts – the trip until now had consumed far more garments than seemed reasonable. Or I was becoming more clumsy. I wasn't sure. I helped myself to one of Raven's spare ones. Being wolf so often when we were out of camp he hardly had use for his garments. I selected the largest one he had. That hung loosely on him but fit me comfortably. Black, but I no longer found it strange. With the world seeming to fade and dim around me, sometimes I could no longer stand grey. It was relief to see black. I grinned to myself. Raven would appreciate the word-play. I retied the knot on his small pack slowly, wishing he was back already. All of the few possessions he had, except his sword and the long bone-blade of his clan, fit into a handy bundle of sewn furs.

Raven had not meant to be away for more than half a moon, but then something had come in the way. I did not know what, for a wolf had carried the message. A jumble of images and emotions, a message the wolf had carried with him like a drop of water in a cupped hand. He could not convey words, and many things Raven had obviously asked him to transmit did not concern a wolf brain. The wolf had repeated what he had been asked to carry like one would recite a song in a foreign language. Accents, details, connections could get lost in the process.

_Men's land, cattle_ _land_ he said. _The direction where the sun stood at its highest point. Wolf pack, hunters, flight. The black lead them._

The message had probably been intended to ease my worry, but fallen short of the aim. The black had got into conflict with humans before, now that wolves were hunted in a rather organized way wherever human traders settled.

The rest of the night I spent awake, unable and unwilling to try and sleep again.

It was around midday, when the camp was buzzing with activity, for the few daylight hours had to be used well for any work, from tanning to preparing food and making arrows. I was lugging water from the stream half a mile away from the campsite.

Most of the elves present avoided working with the humans on close quarters. But water had to be fetched and always bickering around who was on duty now grated on my nerves. The mortals were amiable enough, so I had enlisted myself for water lugging four days running. I was not going to live with them, so that gave me some distance. I came to understand Tirion's view, though. It seemed downright _impossible_ to _live_ with these humans in peace for any real length of time. If Tirion had spent his entire life up to now among them I could easily appreciate his desire to get away from them.

The midday sun was warm, a sensation considerably added to by the weight of the buckets. I slapped down my buckets with a splash when I sensed the tentative mind-call from a great distance. _Blessed Orome! _The call I had waited for the past two moons. It was too fleeting to reach for it, exchange words. Relief flooded through me nevertheless, driving back the ominous feeling the ill-timed dream had left me with.

I waved for the man to go on when the human stopped to look why I was hanging back.

Raven was on his way back. That counted more than a screwed glance from someone who probably wondered if the bucket was too heavy for a slightly built elf, or whatever might be going through the man's mind. No matter that I topped him by a head.

That night I did not spent sitting around the comfortable roaring campfire with the rest of the elves but sneaked off into the forest. I went upstream for some time, bringing enough distance between myself and the camp that the occasional nightly trespassers from that place would not stumble on me.

The crisp cold had cleared the air and the stars seemed twice as bright as in summer. By now, comfortably enough light to see by. My night vision had definitely improved, I thought wryly. No wonder when half the time Raven and me were skulking around at night.

Since spring our share in camp responsibilities consisted largely of sharing in the hunting and gathering other edible things. With the wolf acting as tracker to find and chase the prey towards me our success had become a regular institution. If we went out to hunt, we brought something back. We had to range far to avoid over-hunting the region around the camp. Raven was not entirely happy with this rather uncompromising way of hunting – we could be relatively sure of making a kill when we wanted to. Two out of three wolf hunts failed, and that was what he considered the proper way and was prepared to put up with. But neither was he yet in a condition to chase prey over miles for the sake of The Way, nor did we wish to spent what privacy the hunts gave us only on chasing and lugging back deer.

I sat down near the river, leaning against the foot of an oak, and waited. I had judged the time well, and did not have to sit long.

'Wolf hunting?' he asked sardonically.

I smiled, turning away from the brighter glitter of the water "I'd be wiser than that"

The darkness under the trees seemed to gather itself on a spot and become solid. The black wolf stepped out of the deep shadows under the bushes and looked at me with amusement. Even on the crispy leaves he managed to walk softly.

'Then you walk pretty far out for a look at the stars' the wolf observed, waving his bushy tail gently. In the bright, cold starlight the tips of the outer hairs glimmered silver, and for a moment the black seemed to be surrounded by witch-light.

I had never thought I'd be so glad to see a wolf "Well, I'm certainly glad that I did" I stated emphatically "But do me a favour and _move._ You make my neck prickle, demon-hound"

'Your _neck_?'

The wolf had no expression to show teasing but I could almost feel the grin.

'But I am doing nothing' the black protested innocently.

I still found the black wolf's shadow-walking unsettling. For some reason, I simply did not manage it, though it was only a question of moving with the shadow patterns rather than concentrating on the light patches. Being black-furred probably helped the impression greatly.

'But I'll certainly humour you and _move_'

The black crouched to spring, and I shifted slightly to be ready for the impact 'I warn you, beast. I may not hunt them but I have learned well to fight wolves'

'I know' Raven said with amusement 'You even think of biting at the right moment' he trotted over and leant into me 'I have no intention of fighting, you know'

He looked unhurt and healthy, which was not always the case when the wolf returned. I buried my hands in the soft, thick pelt and breathed the scent of clean fur and wolf with relief. The black twisted his head and nibbled at my face gently.

'Don't you dare nip me'

'Well, bite back'

The wolf didn't nip me. He squirmed and instead I felt the teeth close on my arm.

'Raven-' I closed my hand over the wolf's muzzle and shook him slightly 'Let go or I'll pinch your nose'

'You don't dare'

'Well' I grinned sweetly. The black yelped in surprise and loosened his grip. I quickly seized his ruff and held him off, twisting so that the wolf could not reach me with his teeth. The black bared long fangs and growled, wrapping his forelegs around my arms and trying to pull us both to the ground. I let him go when I felt teeth on my hands again, laughing.

'You're going to get your fight all the same, aren't you?' I asked, pushing the black down and trying to keep him there 'Aren't you tired enough after running all day?'

The wolf shook himself as best as he could in my grip and flicked his ears 'Yes. No' He stretched out on the ground when I released him, giving me a sidelong wolvish glance 'I think not'

Raven got to his feet and called the change. I watched him thoughtfully, followed the shadow flickering over the black fur like wind rippling the hairs, blowing them back and, as they vanished, revealing the dark elf a moment later. Raven grinned, brushed his hair out of his eyes and sobered quickly at my wistful expression.

"I wish I could _do_ that" I said softly. I had thought so to myself often enough, but to say so to Raven…to say it out loud when even Galadriel called the Ashi'kha 'more demon than wolf or elf'…it did not matter, right or wrong. I would decide for myself what was right. And looking through his eyes, feeling what he felt, that one time in Imladris, _had_ been right. I gave my cloak to Raven, who wrapped it around his shoulders. He sat down beside me and took my hands "So do I" he said quietly "With all my heart"

I pulled him close, pushing the longing thought away "I have missed you. I am glad you're back"

"I did not want to stay so long. There is already snow in the mountains, in the nights. It's gone when the sun rises. There was trouble-" Raven broke off.

We needed not waste our time on things that could not be changed, maybe. I tugged at the black strands lightly "Do we stay out here?"

Raven smiled "I think so. Wait…there's the ruins. No one comes _there_ -"

"They're closer to the camp" I pointed out, drawing my hand over the dry fir needles on the ground. Before dawn, frost would rime the ground again.

"Tirion said they thought the place was cursed" Raven said with thin smile "Though at least your forest cousins should know better"

I snorted and got up, holding out a hand to pull Raven to his feet.

The silence of winter lay on the forest around us as we walked. The pines and firs were not so thick here and the stars lit the ground, creating a cold, silver and black play of shadows.

Raven walked stiffly.

"What is it?"

He smiled wryly "You know, after a whole moon of carrying my own fur, my own warmth with me pelt that is not my own feels….chafing, I suppose"

My cape was dark grey. Instinctively keeping to the darker patches Raven walked the wrong side of camouflage. When he caught my gaze he stood for a moment surveying the forest around us "My people have a game. You scatter things on the ground and establish random orders in which to reach them. This is like hopping from one object to the next. It does not feel safe, this kind of hiding"

"I see grey's not your colour"

"No" He walked a winding line from one patch of half-light to the next, but gave up after a while, laughing when my growing grin told him he was showing up nicely against the dark undergrowth.

"But you should wear black more often"

"I had to borrow one of yours. I lost my last shirt to the thorn-hedge north of the camp"

Raven raised one eye-brow "What did you do _there_?"

I glanced at him, and had to laugh "Nothing you are thinking now"

He grinned as well "Well, I was making an honest compliment. About the shirt, that is"

"Point taken. You are a bad flatterer"

"I have no need to _flatter_ you. It was the truth"

"So"

He shrugged "If you don't believe me, believe the wolf"

The ruins looked quiet and untouched under the starlight, rimmed by the black pines. We climbed the remaining part of what had once probably been a wall encircling houses, stable and orchard. The part around the orchard was almost completely gone or crumbled down. Where the house and stable still stood the wall melted into the outer walls of the buildings.

"What do you mean?" I asked as we crossed the orchard, walking along the rough rows of bare and knotty fruit trees. Beneath them the long grass of summer now lay almost flat on the ground. Raven did not hesitate once as he made for the buildings and slipped into one opening that was long missing the stable door. Inside, it was barely warmer than outside, and pitch black as the ceiling cut the starlight off. A thin shimmer fell in from the door but did not reach the hindmost wall. A soft rustle on the ground, and I found to my surprise that there was a thick layer of dry leaves underfoot which must have been blown in by the autumn storms. At the back of the long room Raven's eyes glittered in the dark, reflecting the thin light from the outside, making him look like some wild beast of prey. Demon-hound indeed.

"The concept of _lies_ does not apply to the wolf" Raven said out of the darkness "But my people see beauty as well as yours do. I see it"

I settled myself on the softly rustling ground "What happened while you were gone?" I asked after a while "Your wolf-messenger was not that detailed in his message"

Raven hesitated, then looked away. I knew because the two pinpricks of reflected light winked out "Same trouble as always. Wolves and men don't fit. The land could not be large enough, even if it was infinite"

I moved closer so I could see him properly "He said you were leading"

Raven rolled onto his belly and rested his brow on his arms "I had to" he mumbled reluctantly "They were staging a huge hunt. And you know that…wolves won't pass the…the nets they lay out to drive them into a funnel. Not if no one leads them and goes first-"

"Raven" I leaned back against the stone wall "Do you mean to say you were in the middle of their battues?"

Raven shrugged eloquently without looking at me.

"Do I have to look for more holes in your pelt?"

"They did not use arrows"

"That hardly makes a difference when they have spears. - What happened that they hunted the wolves at all? I think it is rather a great effort for the small villages to stage large hunts"

"Cattle. Sheep. Easy meat. Wolves are opportunists"

I reached out and pulled him around "Can you elaborate or do you want me to guess each word?"

Raven growled "I don't want to talk"

"If you want something else, you'll have to answer me first" I grinned.

"Bastard" Raven gave in after a while "They killed sheep. Sickly, late-born sheep. Wouldn't have survived the winter. Because the villagers hunted the damned forest empty. And the wolves couldn't move because it is all settled for miles around. I had to lead, or the villagers would have killed the whole pack"

"The _whole_?"

Raven made no answer.

"Demon-hound" I lay down beside him with a sigh "You cannot save all the wolves of Middle-earth"

"No" Raven returned fiercely "But some. And most"

There was something else. I knew the way Raven tried to evade my questions and my eyes. He was tensed.

"You are not telling me you…spread your revenge to the villagers?"

Raven pushed himself up on one elbow "And if? I am - "

"A wolf, I know. You can kill all the orcs you want. But please, don't start on men, will you?"

"Do you know what they do with wolves they capture?" Raven asked softly "Men are _worse _than orcs"

"Their sheep is all they have. They are not hunters, black wolf, they are farmers"

"They are stupid" Raven snarled "And they are mean and dirty trappers, and they do not even have the bad excuse of using the fur. If the wolves do not kill their sheep, they hunt them for fun nevertheless. Wolves do not take revenge"

I caught the emphasis on wolves "How many?"

"Wolves, or men?"

I frowned "Both"

"Two wolves" Raven looked at me and added calmly "Two men"

"Damn you, Raven, you are getting yourself into incredible trouble killing humans, even if you are doing it as wolf"

I knew it was no use rebuking him. Neither to try and reason. The dream had been pretty clear in the wolf's emotions. If dream it had been. In a way, I thought darkly, Raven was right, somehow. Men avenged their own, killing a pack when one of them was killed by a wolf. For Raven, the black wolf, that was not a challenge, but a call for retribution. Somehow, despite feeling horrified at the idea of the wolf killing men, I could understand him. If I found men killing elves, wouldn't I do the same? Well, at least I would want to.

We had our own worries. No use adding the follies of farmers far away, was it?

Raven moved closer to me. He was exhausted, and despite his cold report I sensed that it had affected him more than he would admit. He had not been happy killing the hill-men. And that had been a stalk-and-strike-thing, bow-fighting. The wolf killed without the assistance of weapons, without distance – demon-hound or not, Raven was not a cold-blooded killer, at least where other things than orcs were concerned.

"This is not what troubles you" Raven said suddenly.

"Who tells you that!" I grumbled.

"My nose" Raven squinted up at me "Or maybe the wolf's. Tell me"

"It is nothing"

"And I am closemouthed, hm?"

"Yes you are"

"And you are stubborn. I am not going to make the same mistake twice, _khai'toh_. It has to do with me, so out with it"

"It is nothing you can change, Raven"

"Maybe you should leave that choice to me. Tell me. What _is _wrong?"

"Sometimes I want to tell you to stay out of my head"

"I am not reading your thoughts" Raven said easily "I told you, right now my nose is enough. If you're going to dither further, though, I may resort to that"

I sat up "Fat chance. I am better at shielding than you"

Raven groaned and sat up as well. He reached out to lay his hand on my chest. I grabbed his wrist, turning a warning glance to him. Raven frowned "If you want me to lie with you, you realize I have to touch at some point?"

"I know very well what you wanted to do that for"

"Gildor, please!" Raven hissed, a note of desperation creeping into his voice "If it's not dead men bothering you, tell me what it is, because maybe _that_ can still be changed! And don't break my arm, I beg you"

I released him slowly "I have missed you, demon hound"

"So" Raven grinned "Good to hear. What else?"

I eyed him in exasperation, then shook my head "The rings are gone"

"I know that" Raven stared hard at me for a while "You feel it. And it is not a good feeling, I take it?"

"I have been in Imladris a long time. And often. Maybe too often. It is – good that we left. Too much is changing there without the ring working anymore"

"I can't say I miss the feeling" Raven said dryly "But why does it affect you? Just…just because you lived there for some time?"

"Some time was a very long time. A very long time in which there was outside world and inside world…you will have noticed that Imladris was quite…constant"

Raven nodded slowly "I see, but I still do not understand what it has to do with me, and I know _that_ is what really bothers you"

"You" I said quietly "are continuing where the rings failed"

Raven blinked "What do you mean?"

"I mean" I said "That time is not simply passing swifter. It writhes in my grasp. And it is worse when you are gone. Far, that is. Since, as you said, I idiot linked my life-force to you in Lorien I can sense your presence much better than before. But there are limits to the distance that it works. You…keep me in the here and now. While you are there, I have a direction. I mean that literally"

Raven was silent for a long while. When he reached out this time I did not stop him from taking my hands.

"The wolf lives in the moment"

"More than any elf could, yes"

"It is not that time does not touch me-"

"But you do not grow weary. We depended on the rings for too long, too much. And all the time passing we did not feel while they worked comes back at once now"

Raven looked up "I will not go like this anymore"

I interrupted him sharply "Hold it. You wanted to hear what bothered me, I told you. I won't try and chain the wolf, and I will not ask you to do it"

"What is not asked can be freely given" Raven pointed out quietly.

"I would never have said this but for your prying!...What an absurd situation!" I added after a moment "I am caught in the past, and you are chained to the moment"

"No. Not really, at least. I am caught in between. The wolf's now and the elf's memories. I am both, and can be neither fully"

When I looked at him in surprise he continued slowly "At least there is a balance. I can flee in either direction, whenever the other gets too complicated" Raven shifted to close the distance between us, pushing me down gently "Escape with me, will you?"

The ground was dry, but cold nevertheless. And as the night passed, it became colder even more. Slowly, we became aware of the cold again. I shivered despite Raven's warmth along my back.

"It's amazing how one so thin can produce so much warmth" I grumbled "Or have so much energy, for that matter. You are still so bony, you look like Walking Death. That is alarming, dark elf"

Raven laughed and twisted to look over my shoulder without pushing himself up "Stalking Death, please. And it's just the pack was pretty short on good prey while I was there. I have looked worse after the Long Winter – I catch up in no time, don't you worry"

"You have changed" I said after a while.

Raven grinned into my hair "What, in the last moon?"

"Not that, silly"

Raven chuckled "Of course. I am capable of learning"

"Definitely. And you know very well I was not referring to _that_"

"Well, I chose to ignore it. I'm too tired to give you a remotely intelligent answer. Tell me again tomorrow"

"Go to sleep, wolf" I grinned "But pass me cloak first, or I'll have to shift you halfway through the night"

It was some time yet from dawn when I was woken by an inner alarm call. I woke Raven by mind-touch at once. After two moons of little rest he had given in to the luxury of falling deeply asleep beside and half upon me. When something was close enough to trigger my awareness without me scrying for it, it was far past Raven's usually high-strung wolf senses. And time to get worried about being surprised. I pushed the cloak away I had pulled over us. Raven was wide awake in a second. I had reached for my knife without needing to think about it, now feeling the cold handle against my palm.

"Stay" Raven's voice was barely a whisper. He moved slightly to lie on his belly beside me, one hand on my sword-arm.

"Tirion"

For a brief moment, I felt panic. Up to now, we had remained…well, undetected. Never mind the whispers, no one _knew_.

'No one comes here, yes?' I asked scathingly. Raven only shrugged. 'They would not send someone to look for us with no good reason. If they wanted a _spy_, neither would they send Tirion, would they?'

There _should _be a reason someone took the pains to search thus for us. We had a few moments to roll up the cloaks and disappear. Or appear unconcerned. Raven had the same idea and had followed my thoughts.

'He's not stupid. We would leave traces'

Certainly traces.

Raven had once been concerned not to be found out. Right now, I knew no one and nothing meant anything to him beside us. He was the wolf, and the wolf was what he was – he had no reason to hide from anyone. Not he. Not anymore. I could feel his sudden anger "I am sick and tired of concealing everything with these fools, sick and tired of stealing looks and touches, of doing the oddest tasks just to have some time for us" he hissed.

"I know" I said. I had nothing to protect, no name and no position, had I? Raven could face anyone with the cold indifference of the wolf, but he had no right to decide that for me. This had become a different world, and the one in which we moved was no longer fit for our little secret. But this was Tirion, and in addition to annoyance at the need to hide Raven felt bolder towards the young elf. After all, he was only a cub. For a long moment we lay quietly, each listening to the other's soft breathing. Then a voice called our names. At the edge of the orchard.

"How much do you trust him?"

I tried to find an honest answer. A true one "Enough, I guess"

"You guess"

"I have no choice but to"

Raven looked at me for a long moment. Then answered "We are here"

There was a slight hesitation, then Tirion's footsteps came towards the stable. He stopped short in the door "Gildor?" he asked uncertainly, peering into the darkness. Tirion pushed the door wider which I had not realized had been half closed. Starlight fell into the building and Tirion came inside, feeling along the wall.

"Use night-sight" Raven said suddenly, his voice dripping with irony "Before you're stumbling on us"

I wanted to kick him for that, but supposed Tirion would have enough to deal with now without the two of us getting into a fight in front of him. The younger elf made a curious sound and backed away. Raven was on his feet with one fluid motion. He grabbed Tirion's arm before he could flee and pulled him around.

"Most certainly not" he hissed. Tirion gave him a wild-eyed stare and drew his knife "Are you mad" he almost shouted "How can you – how dare you-"

"How dare we what?" Raven demanded, ignoring the knife. There was something decidedly unwolvish about him, I thought darkly. More like a cat surveying his prey. Raven released Tirion and moved around slightly, ready to fend off an attack "Do you want to find out in a few moons and feel we have betrayed you? Couldn't you have guessed?" he said on dangerously soft "Do you want to shriek about now like a trader's woman?"

Tirion flushed a glorious scarlet, which I even saw with night-sight, though I could not tell if it was fury or shame.

"You-" Tirion almost spat like a cat, his eyes fixed on Raven, who returned his gaze stonily, unperturbed by the fact he was stark naked at the moment and Tirion probably on the edge of melting into the ground "You come out here to-" the younger elf broke off.

"What do you expect us to, do it in the camp?" Raven moved to block the door and Tirion circled around to keep distance between them "Of course we come out here. And if you come too, be grateful you walk in on _us_ and not someone else less happy with having their cover blown"

"Stop that idiotic thing" I said sharply, sitting up "Raven, come _here_. And you, too, _now_" I added to Tirion. 'I certainly appreciate your decision to get this over with, but for heaven's sake, stop playing him up like this' I told Raven silently.

He stared back at me, pale and sharp in the darkness 'I am not playing him up. I am trying to tell him he should stop _acting_ like a fool'

"You have been Gildor's friend for quite a while now, Tirion" Raven snapped aloud "What difference does this make? Except that I come into the whole thing? Will you stop acting as if all your mortal priests are still breathing down your neck?"

"Raven!" I jerked him around to face me 'Stop this _now. _What is up with you suddenly?'

"Nothing" Raven gave me a strange look, not bothering to use mind-speech "You tell him then as you see fit. But I am going to leave before I _scream_"

He got up and stalked out of the barn.

"Damn you" I snarled after him before turning to Tirion again "For all his idiocy he was right, you know?" I said more gently "Would you have felt better finding out about us much later? I can't imagine"

"But-" Tirion stared at me helplessly "Why-"

"Why what? Why Raven, or why a male partner?"

Tirion looked back mutely.

"See, before you burst with shame, I could pick you out at least five male or female couples in this camp, Tirion" I said. He buried his head in his hands desperately "Oh my. Gildor, I did not mean to – I would not have come looking for you if I-"

"So we assumed. We have been…well, call it inattentive, otherwise you would not have got into this…predicament"

Tirion winced slightly at my formulation.

"We could have avoided you. So – you know now, make of it what you will, but do at least _me_ the favour and keep the knowledge to yourself"

Tirion sat motionless for a long moment. He nodded, and got up, turning towards the entrance. Raven blocked the doorway as Tirion tried to make a hasty escape "Remember the wolves" He moved aside to let Tirion pass and turned a burning glance on me before coming over to me.

I sighed "What was that about? You know what he is like. With all that stuff of years with humans in his brain. Couldn't you have been a little more…tactful?"

"No" Raven said down beside me wearily "I couldn't have. If it was just that…that he is shy, I would have been, probably. But he is so damn self-assured that he knows all. Spent all his life with stone-headed humans and now tries to place his morals here. Damn it, he _makes _me want to shout"

"So I noticed" I said dryly.

Raven rubbed his eyes "If you can keep calm, that is wonderful. But I don't have the patience for that nonsense"

"I just think we could have told him smarter. Well, it is his to figure out now. I don't think he will start avoiding us"

"He won't start avoiding you" Raven corrected "I know loathing when I see it"

"You did little to make him feel different" I took him in his arms and pulled Raven down with me "Imagine what you would have felt like in Rivendell had you been alone. The last thing you would have needed would have been snide comments. He is not Ashi'kha. By now you should know better than to judge people by that measures. And what was that threat about the wolves? I don't think acquainting him with the changewolf would be a wise idea after this"

Raven growled softly "Who says it was a threat?"

"I do" I smiled thinly "By now I know how your threats sound like"

"It was a reminder" Raven said coldly "I do not trust him to hold his tongue"

"He will" I assured him "Whatever conclusion he comes to, Tirion is not the one to blab it to anyone. And what in Middle Earth have the wolves to do with that?"

Raven let out his breath slowly "He wanted to tell me wolves were worse than elves as they kill each other. But so do elves, I hear, even though wolves do not need jewels to start a war"

I groaned "You threatened to kill him?"

"No" It was Raven's turn to smile thinly "I just reminded him of the way wolves can fight. And by the way, I do not judge _anyone_ by Ashi'kha standards, you of all the world should now that. They are not all blessed with your amount of understanding"

"That's what you call it" I laughed softly.

Raven shook his head and pulled me closer with a certain amount of desperation "Lie with me" he whispered harshly, knitting his hands into my hair.

"Here?" I returned, amused "Who else do you want to shock?"

"Who cares?"

"Should I feel flattered or worried?"

"Pick your choice" Raven said quietly "What else could go wrong?"

"You _are _pessimistic"

"Well. Make me feel different"

A patch of thin sunlight crept into the barn, but it was bitter cold and our breath steamed in the air. There was frost outside, I could tell from the glittering quality of light. Not that it made any felt difference to the cold inside the ruin. I curled up tighter into the curve of Raven's body, debating whether it was worth it to leave our own company for the camp.

It wasn't.

Raven wrapped his arms around me in an effort to give more warmth. There was a catch in his breath.

"Raven?" I uncurled a little to look at him. Raven felt my motion and abruptly turned his head so that his hair fell over his face "It's fine"

I reached up and brushed his tangled mane aside, feeling cold tears on Raven's cheeks "It is not. Raven -"

Raven blinked and finally looked at me "I hate them, you know?" he whispered without preamble "I hate the Valar for their damned arrogance that cursed more lives through the ages than Fёanor ever managed. I hate them for that…presumption of theirs, sitting over on their island and letting the world go by outrun laws, I hate them for placing a whole damn ocean in between, I _wish _I could fight them with a sword, I wish I could fight that cursed sea with a sword -. I hate them for taking our time away without even _noticing _it…" he faltered.

I looked at him, taken aback. Some time ago…very long ago…I would have shivered at the blasphemy of that. Now, I only shivered at the viciousness behind Raven's words, the accuracy with which he echoed my own secret thoughts and accusations, my own words in Lorien. I had to blink back tears of frustration myself suddenly "We can't help it, you know? We just can't help it"

I hated to acknowledge that. Until now, I had not thought of admitting it. Through all the years, I had always thought, always hoped, there would be a way, that I would have the strength to fight the sea. Galadriel's words had not made things better. That I had walked away from the Haven's was only a small, a temporary victory. And Raven was the reason for that, Raven was the one being keeping me here. A wolf against a whole damn sea.

_Ravens don't cross the sea – _

"Glorfindel spoke of hope" I whispered.

"Glorfindel is gone"

I hesitated "That does not make his words void"

"There is nothing I can do, is there?" Raven's voice was muffled against my chest "Nothing at all"

I squeezed my eyes shut tightly. To the flames of Mordor with all curses and doom and piety and prophecies, I _would _not cry. Not now, not for the Valar. It was unsettling enough that Raven did. In all our years together I had seen Raven cry only once, after _Shina'a'sha._

"I don't…no. Nothing, except being there" I said finally, stroking Raven's tensed shoulders and wishing I could say something else.

Tirion intercepted us at the edge of camp, just behind the line of sentinels. He glanced at Raven uncomfortably, taking in the dark elf's shaken appearance. Raven looked at him for a moment "It has nothing to do with you" he said stiffly. He touched my shoulder lightly and walked off into the camp. Tirion turned to me "Did you quarrel? Because of me?"

He sounded anxious. "No" I said with a sigh "Raven can be mean, but he is no liar"

Tirion looked as if he wanted to ask something but obviously sensed me unwillingness to elaborate.

"Got over the shock?" I inquired instead.

"I never felt so…terrible as last night" Tirion admitted, subdued "But you – I think I – would not have been happy finding out some time…other. You realize I was not spying?" he added worriedly.

I snickered "We thought at first. But you looked much too stricken. But what _did _you want, coming out there at night looking for us?"

Tirion looked at his feet "Actually I was looking for _you_. I knew Raven was gone and we had not talked for quite a while" he shrugged uneasily "That's about it. I wanted to talk"

We followed Raven's earlier course into the camp "What _is_ between you and Raven?" I asked after a while "You are like wolves considering a fight over a pack. You got along with him very well until last moon"

"I don't know" Tirion raised his hands in frustration "We didn't fall out with each other or something"

"But?"

"I don't know Gildor! He is just so…bitchy the last weeks. I…I wonder how you can bear him when he is like…like…"

"Last night" I finished for him "I don't know why he blew up like that. After all it was his decision to answer instead of trying to block us from scrying"

Tirion fell silent. We stopped by the fire place. There was always something to eat available there, and we helped ourselves to sweetened oats and wild apples.

"And do you still feel like talking to me or has this driven all thought of small talk from your mind, Tirion?" I asked finally when Tirion stared into his bowl absently. The younger elf started "Given Raven's…view on things I think the problem has just…solved itself" he said slowly "Actually, I…meant to ask if you would not stay…some more. A year or so. I know you are going to…somewhere, but-" Tirion shrugged and stirred his porridge "Anyway, it's just you…are the only friends I have here…the only ones that is who are…well, willing to help rather than just frown"

"Hm" I looked at him thoughtfully. I _wanted _to get to the Ashi'kha. As soon as possible. To stay was…well, I _could _imagine that, but…the question was, would Raven be willing to spend another year here? Probably not. The elves would not be travelling on with the humans after winter. Raven would _not _stay with a camp full of humans, and neither did I feel up to it. We _could _go with the elves.

We could also go on on our own – then the question remained, would Raven be willing to put up with Tirion? I did not feel like arbitrating between two stubborn, thick-headed and short-tempered _younglings_. For that was what Raven could be like if he wanted to be really vile. Tirion probably could not help seeing things quite…human, but Raven was unbearable when he did not _want_ to see things. Including the fact that Tirion seldom meant to truly rile him, he just had not figured out where Raven drew the lines.

We _had _kind of taken charge of Tirion, yes. It was not really fair leaving him half-way to figure out 'elf-things'as Tirion called it on his own, was it?

"Look" I said "I would not mind so much waiting another year – but neither am I willing to leave Raven"Or able, for that matter. And he may want to go on to his people alone and tell me to follow when I see fit – but that would not work so easily. Tirion coloured slightly, obviously thinking only of my second reason why I did not relish the thought leaving the dark elf. No need to tell him how it felt when Raven was so far away that I could barely sense him.

"I will talk to him if you wish. Maybe we will not go on this winter then. But I assume he will not want to stay _here. _You could think it over if you would be willing to travel with us, for that seems the most probable thing Raven will agree to"

Tirion glanced over at Raven, who had taken a seat on the ground under a low tree, watching the camp activities from his sheltered spot, and sighed "If that is the choice I won't need having to think about it. Anything Raven could come up with can't be as terrible as floundering about among a mass of foreign elves" he stated, then added "Should I apologize to him?"

I shook my head "Hell, no"

Tirion shrugged "Well, I don't feel like dealing with him right now. I had better leave you here. Will you tell me what he said, then?"

"Sure"

Tirion got up but then turned and looked back "But - there are no thorns between _us_, are there?"

"No" I said "There are not"

Chapter Notes:

If you wonder who the heck Tirion is (obviously not the city and tower in Valinor), the chapter before this telling you that is not finished yet.

15


	65. Chapter 65 Logical Progression

**Logical Progression**

4th Age 2, Northern edge of Ered Luin

_You say her love has gone forever_

_And something has_

_Gone from your soul_

_It's left you so cold_

_Though you wish_

_You had the answer_

_The question is always untold_

_Always on hold_

_What's in the mirror_

_What do you see_

_It's a logical progression_

_When you think that_

_You lost all that time_

_It's all in your mind_

_What's in the mirror_

_What do you see_

_Lay down now and close your eyes_

_It's only just begun_

'_Cause mind and body_

_Flow in perpetual motion_

_Set free all your memories_

_They're tearing you apart_

'_Cause you know that_

_Love is the only direction_

_That reputation that you live by_

_Says something about what's inside_

_Nowhere to hide_

_There is no amount of heartache_

_That could ever_

_Wash over this burning_

_Forever learning_

_Look in the mirror_

_Will you do it all again_

Raven's POV

We had passed from the Ettenmoors north along the Misty Mountains and along the hills of Carn Dum. The lands were remarkably peaceful – probably because they were so far out of the way as to be hidden. Tirion had not been here before, but I think Gildor had. Maybe not in the regions I had now led them through, but he refused to say anything. This was wolf-land, and I followed the nondescript paths in the dense underbrush which the wolves used. We stayed completely under cover that way, and like the wolves, only left the paths to hunt. Gildor and Tirion trailed behind me, which was an odd, unsettling feeling. It made me feel like I was leading, and I knew I wasn't. I did not want to. _I'tan'ka_ was not my business.

I could tell that both were extremely glad to reach the coast, if only to leave the wet, dense underbrush. I knew I was glad just for the fact of no longer having to walk in the front. We left the wolves in the thickets, too, and I didn't like _that_. We had come upon a small settlement of humans, and despite a number of curious glances they had made us quite welcome in the inn of the small town. Most dealings with them we left to Tirion. The younger elf had no difficulty in getting along with either the town or its inhabitants. Gildor seemed slightly shaken at realizing how little he found the company of so many people enticing anymore. By now, I suppose, he could understand me much better when I avoided larger groups, though our respective reasons were still different.

Staying in the town was a curious mixture of comfort and stress, which was added to by the proximity of the sea. I did not care for that particular fact very much, but it nagged on Gildor, and his tension reflected on me. Even when I was with him, just walking along the shore proved a strain on his will. He loved the coast, yet more and more the feeling of being torn intruded on the simple enjoyment of the land, the shifting patterns of clouds and waves. I can describe it no better. I could sense that he felt on edge, as if waiting for a sign to leave which would not come, but I could not connect that feeling to the sea. I suppose this was one more instance where I was glad my father's heritage was weaker than Ashi'kha blood. The sea did not bother me at all in that way.

We were near the northern ice-bays and it was very cold even now in early autumn. A chill wind constantly blew from the sea. One night a fierce hailstorm passed over the land, pelting the deserted shoreline and the town with tiny pieces of ice. For three days the weather was stormy and icy cold, hail and rain taking turns in driving any merchant from the streets and keeping the fishermen on the land. I grew restless and snappish, fearing we had misjudged the weather so far north and would get snowed in here for the winter. When finally a cold and clear morning dawned we decided to move landwards again, to make for the hills of Carn Dum once more. I knew a number of sheltered caves in that region where we could winter comfortably.

One more day by the sea, now, I felt, and I would go_ raving_ mad. Wolves howled in the lands beyond, but never came to the coast itself. There were wolf-traps and fenced pens around the settlement, and the beasts were clever enough to avoid their proximity. Mostly. I saw a number of wolf-skins nailed to doors and gates, and did my best not to let my rising enmity towards these humans show. On our last day I was out of the town until sundown, scouring the dunes and marshlands around the settlement. I saw geese flying and came upon several ducks, but dared not hunt either. This was human territory, and much as I despised that, I would respect their claim on this land. When I returned to the inn that evening, Gildor and Tirion were at the table with some of the fishermen, taking their leave of them by a round of wine and beer mugs. One of the fishers was talking animatedly, and Gildor had a rather amused look on his face.

I would have retreated to the room the three of us shared had Tirion not hailed me. Gildor knew how little I relished having more than two strangers around, and remained silent. Of course, I thought, Tirion would get me into trouble again without even noticing. So I steeled myself and made my way to the table. Whatever one of the two strangers had been saying, he fell silent abruptly. One of the fishers pushed a full to the brim foaming tankard into my direction, covering the awkward silence, then coloured slightly.

"Sorry. Forgot you people have wine rather-"

I pulled the mug towards me, playing for time to make out what he had said. His Sindarin was hardly better than mine.

"It's alright" I said carefully "Beer is fine with me" At least that was true. In Rivendell, I had got a taste for beer. I knew from Fingal's and mine initial experience with traders' wine that I had no stomach for such things, but at least beer unhinged me far less than potent wine. I glanced at the gathering around the table cautiously. Most of the men here were friendly, as far as humans go and I had ever come into contact with them in the last days. Two of the fishers present I did not know at all.

"Well?" Tirion asked the fisher opposite him, obviously continuing the interrupted conversation. "And you never lived to see the end of your story?"

The fishermen laughed.

"Bermo has a lot of fancy tales to spread" one said. "In about half of them he barely escapes alive"

Bermo was not amused. "I tell you" he said. "The girl drank at the river, and was never seen again. But they heard wolves howl all night long, and it was a moonless night"

He glanced at Tirion, then at me.

"They say she ran like a wolf. Drank blood from killed sheep at night. She was a skin-turner" he nodded his head towards me "What they say of your companion"

I raised my eyebrows, hoping I did not show the shock lancing through me at that moment. Had I betrayed myself? I rapidly went through the instances I had met up with people in the past few days, wondering where they could have even _guessed _that. The only instance I knew I had shown more than casual interest in the wolves around the settlement was when I had suggested a distraught shepherd to ring his fence with the same flapping rags they used in wolf hunts. What kept the wolves in would just as well keep them out.

"Of Raven?" Tirion was highly amused. Gildor kept his face carefully expressionless. "What do they say? That he drinks sheep blood? I noticed none missing"

Again, the other fishers laughed.

"A skin turner, yes" Bermo persisted. "Like, out and about all night, in the darkness. Doing whatever you folk do out there. With all the wolves close. The dogs bark all night. Don't like him, too, growl when he passes-" the man broke off before it became an insult. I glanced at Gildor, who shrugged slightly and gave me a crooked grin 'I said _nothing_'

The man looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to turn wolf right there and start rampaging through the inn. Not that I would have had a problem with that. It galled me that for the greatest part of the time I had to pretend I was something I wasn't. But by now I knew how silly mortals reacted to wolves. And how merciless they hunted those of their own kind who they thought were in league with them. Wolf was analogous to demon. That was, I had gathered, the reason for the wolf skins at the doors. A warning to wolf-demons not to cross the threshold.

"If I am, I did not touch your sheep" I said, wondering if Tirion had assumed anything and shared his suppositions with the fishers. Neither I nor Gildor had bothered much to hide our friendliness with wolves during our trip here. At least I was honest about the sheep. I could not have thought of a suitable lie at that moment. I had been wolf, yes, but I knew much better than to touch anything saying 'human property'.

"Don't they also say" I asked, blessedly remembering something Aragorn had told me about werewolf-ideas of mortals "that a werewolf cannot stand his own reflection or drink fermented liquid?" I raised my polished copper mug, turning it so the candles and faces around the table were reflected on its surface, and studied it for a moment. "Cheers"

That earned me a round of laughter from around the table. Even Bermo had to grin.

"That round goes to you" Gildor said softly, grinning, as the conversation turned to other of Bermo's stories.

"You wouldn't have gone out of your way helping me out of that one, would you?" I asked grumpily. Gildor only grinned broader "Do _I _know what you did with their sheep?"

"If you ask Tirion, I fear he would guess I did other things than drink their blood" I said under my breath.

Gildor cuffed me into the ribs, half laughing half snarling "You are disgusting. Stop having a go at the boy, will you?"

In my opinion I definitely did not 'have a go' at Tirion – if anything, we were nagging each other. Outside the time when he was actually learning something from me, that is. In that respect, Tirion had a fine wolvish view of things, and while we had an objective, we got along well with each other.

We were three days out from the town when we ran into elves, hunters from around Lake Evendim. Gildor knew one of them. They had been in Gil-Galad's army together, and neither had been aware the other was still in Middle Earth. The group also reported there were a number of Silvan and Wild Elves near the lake, and it turned out Gildor knew several names. After some debating with himself Gildor decided he definitely wanted to meet them again, so he and I settled on the plan that he would go to Evendim with the hunters, while I would stay near, about halfway between the downs and the Evendim hills. There was a part of rocky region where I could wait and take shelter. Assuming Tirion was going with Gildor I had planned going as wolf, but then the younger elf decided he would rather stay with me.

Gildor smirked, knowing that threw me very much. At the moment, Tirion and I got along only when both of us kept a firm reign on our tempers, and most of the time I did not react to things that riled me about him only for Gildor's sake. Tirion probably did the same, fearing the time while Gildor would be gone, but still leaving me unable to fathom just why he would choose to stay with me at all.

It turned out much harder than we had expected getting along peacefully with each other this time. In addition, I was on edge because I had not hunted well, neither as wolf nor unfurred. We were hungry and had spent several nights out of cover trying to round up satisfying prey. The nights were incredibly cold and Tirion was freezing and hungry. He was yet a much worse hunter than I, and I couldn't help snapping at his remarks. He did not have Gildor's cool acceptance or his authority. Neither had he the Elda's sharp tongue to shoot back at as good as he got, so we quarrelled about simple matters more often than not. My wolf part tended to gnaw at the weakest part of the bone, and I knew I did not give him a moment rest when I had a chance to place some verbal dagger.

One icy night when it seemed autumn was ended definitely and winter had come in with an early snow I heard wolves howl again. I left the camp to hunt once more, and this time I returned with two lean rabbits. Tirion looked at them curiously as I stoked up the fire before skinning and spitting our meal. I had had my bow with me, but there was no arrow mark on the rabbits. I could see the confrontation coming when Tirion took hold of one scrawny leg and rolled a rabbit on its back suspiciously.

"Their necks are broken" he said suddenly, horrified.

"Of course" I said "Kel hunted them"

"Kel?-" Tirion's voice turned over on the word.

"Kel" I repeated. I turned to look away into the darkness beyond the fire and made a soft sound in my throat. There was a slight motion, a gleam of eyes, and Kel, a shaggy grey wolf, moved up to our place. Tirion was dumbstruck. Having seen that same look directed at me often enough before I knew his mind told him to reach for his weapon – any weapon – and do something.

"Kel" I said again. I made two quick cuts across one of the rabbits, skinned it and severed the places where the bloody skin still clung to its limbs. Then I held the skin out and the wolf closed the distance between us, coming so close that I knew Tirion could smell him and see the black pupils in the yellow eyes. Kel's fangs gleam briefly as he took the skin from my hand and disappeared into the darkness with his prize held tight in his jaws.

"It's only scraps for chewing. The skin is nothing worth troubling for, for a wolf. It is the entrails guts he will appreciate most" I said, repeating the process with the second rabbit and gutting the animals. Tirion's eyes burned into my back.

"Are you mad!"

I positioned the rabbits over the fire and cleaned my hands with snow.

"Yes"

"That is sorcery" Tirion was hardly able to speak coherently.

I gave him a cold look and snorted "Sorcery? Kel is a simple wolf. His pack cast him out, and for the winter, he is alone. We hunted together, and his share was a rabbit and the leftovers from our meal I promised to him. if you care for the guts, there they are"

"You – you promised? Do you talk to them, then? Are you – What spell - "

"Do you believe Bermo's fancies then?" I interrupted him, my temper snapping once more. "Or was it a beer too much?"

"You know as well as I that it wasn't" Tirion hissed. Only then, he obviously remembered that I had not denied the man's words and said as much. I stared at him for a long moment, caught between the attempt to try and explain and the wish to shout the truth at him. I knew I was not so much angry at him than at the whole situation, but he was in the wrong place at the wrong time, saying the wrong things.

"Have you never listened to Gildor?" I demanded "In all your talks about the fucking world and my business, did you never once listen? He spoke about the wolves, didn't he? When we heard them howl, he spoke of them, because he knew. He knows as well as I to understand them by now"

With the last I failed to keep my voice down.

"Why the hell have you never told me?" Tirion demanded wildly.

"What would it have changed! I thought you had it straight by now!"

"But he laughed!" Tirion said desperately, almost shouting as well "He laughed when he said it"

"Yes dammit, he laughed. He laughs a lot, you know?"

I fell silent before my voice broke. The time by the sea had unsettled me more than I wanted any of my two companions to know, least of all Tirion. To think that some time – _soon, so damn soon_ – I would have to part ways with Gildor at just that boundary drove me mad. Even now, with no more than a march of four days between us I felt strained. I missed Gildor, his calm presence, the pack leader. I missed the touch of his skin, the scent of his hair. And I missed his laughter. Time passed, but not smoothly as for a wolf, time chafed past me.

And all Tirion could think about was that a wolf had hunted our meal for tonight? What was the difference if I had shot the rabbits with a bow? They were dead all the same, and the wolf's fangs had been kinder. I was not good enough with a bow to shoot to kill. Usually I only managed to bring my prey down, then I had to run and kill it with a knife. No, I definitely preferred the wolf's much more immediate way.

Tirion stared at me as if I had sprouted antlers.

"And do you remember the rest of what he said?" I hissed, loosing my restraint "I do not only talk to them. I do not only hunt with them. I _am_ a wolf, Tirion. And he wasn't joking then, he was not talking in images"

Tirion snorted.

"What would you have me do?" I demanded savagely. "Change, so you can see I can do it when I wish? Without bat's blood and magic salve?"

"Yes" Tirion shouted back, now equally angered "Prove it, dark elf. Call your wolf"

I was on my feet in a moment and Tirion leaped up as well. I threw the blanket down and flung myself through the change. I landed on all fours without faltering and left paw-prints in the hard snow as I stepped aside. I stared at Tirion through the wolf's eyes, and the younger elf simply stared back. I could feel the wolf wrinkle his muzzle in threat, baring his fangs. Before I lost control over the wolf in my anger I turned the change back, reaching for the discarded blanket as I got to my feet.

Tirion sucked in a breath he had kept through the whole thing. I looked down at the wolf tracks beside my own. Tirion made a backward motion, and I gripped his arm.

"Look" I ordered, breathless after the quick change and shift of perception, pulling Tirion towards me so he had to look down at the tracks "It takes energy, you know. A whole damn lot. But that is it. All I need for this is my own power. No fucking flowers, no concoctions"

I felt Tirion flinch at my viciousness. It was harder, much harder, to control the wolf when I was furious, and I could barely keep myself from flinging venom at him. It was not fair, I knew, but it helped nothing. I released Tirion and took a step back, feeling suddenly weary. I did not care what the younger elf did, if he should run away. It mattered not. Except that Gildor would kill me if he came to harm.

I was prepared for almost anything from Tirion, from angry tirades to attack to verbal abuse. He might have started waving a charm around! He had grown up with humans, and that fact tended to assert itself in the most unsuitable moments. Like when he found Gildor and me that night in the ruins. Like now.

But Tirion simply stared numbly at the tracks, then at me.

He whispered something in his own tongue that I did not understand. Suddenly he crossed the distance between us to stand face to face with me.

"Why did you say yes when I asked if I could travel with you, back at the camp?" he asked, his voice shaking.

"Why should I have refused?" I returned "I would not have said yes had I not wished for your company as well. I did not say yes to eat you"

Tirion's eyes blazed, then he dropped his gaze "Well, I can imagine _that_"

For a long while he stood where he was, an arm's length from me. I did not move once, chiefly because I had no idea what to do. He was shaking, and I did not know if it was out of anger or with the cold. He seemed to expect to feel hot breath on his neck, feel teeth snapping at him from out of the darkness.

"You're no elf"

It was barely a whisper.

I said nothing. I could neither deny nor proof that. If Tirion meant it as an insult or a simple truth, I could not say either.

"And Gildor" Tirion broke off.

"Do leave him out of this" I snapped.

"But he sleeps with you!" Tirion knew he had said the wrong thing the moment he blurted the words out.

"So what?" I hissed venomously, taking a step towards him "That is nothing new, Tirion! Do you think he lies with the wolf, or what?" I turned and stalked some distance away before the wolf decided to sink his teeth into something – or someone, for that matter. We had laughed heartily at that notion in Lorien, but right now -.

More silence. I took a few deep breaths to calm myself down.

"Decide" I said finally "Neither of us will change. So decide now"

I crossed the distance between us once more. Tirion stood rock-still, frozen to the spot with fear or stubbornness. I reached out and put a hand under his chin, forcing him to meet my eyes.

"I have not acquired this power in the last two minutes. I am the same you met a year ago. Decide if you will travel further with us, and tell me yea or nay. Now"

Tirion swallowed.

He stared at me, dropped his eyes, and looked up again when I did not release him. He was frightened and angry at the same time, the wolf told me. And furious at me for shaming him. I realized how much the wolf had been steering me. I was not _i'tan'ka_, but neither was Tirion. We both followed Gildor, but our order was not settled yet. Though I had not bothered about that, the wolf had. And he had seized me when I had not been wary, in my anger, and sought to establish his advantage over Tirion. Who had no idea how my furred and unfurred parts interacted. He was frightened of me, and I felt it as the wolf scented fear or sickness. I couldn't help that, and I would not pretend to try and push the wolf back. Because of him, I had survived. Because of him, I was here now.

After what seemed an eternity Tirion finally nodded.

Later that night, Kel returned to the camp. He snapped up the bloody entrails hastily, then I went a little distance from the fire him. Kel was hungry enough that he ate the last rabbit skin as well. He inspected the bones of the rabbits I had laid aside and crunched them open to get at the marrow. I held the broken ends for him to gnaw clear, and felt his rough hot tongue on my hands. He squeezed the bone with his front teeth and pulled. I pulled back, and we tugged back and forth. Alone, he was glad for my company, and I could only say the same. The unfurred world seemed much too complicated without Gildor. I could not even find an intelligent way to deal with Tirion. To turn wolf and stay the night with Kel was tempting.

We were well away from the fire, but Kel seemed intrigued. He edged closer to the flames again after a while, sniffing and looking at the younger elf. Tirion tensed and wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to suppress uncontrolled shivering.

The mean part of me was tempted to let Kel satisfy his curiosity. He would sniff around Tirion for a while, stare at him, maybe give him an experimental shove, but otherwise leave him alone. Maybe then he would see Kel was a simple wolf and not a monster.

Before the wolf came any closer to Tirion I made a soft noise from where I still sat in the darkness. Kel turned and came back to me. Tirion watched us for a while until Kel took leave of me by pushing his muzzle under my chin and licking across my face. It was an affectionate gesture and usually reserved for the pack leader. I stared after the wolf thoughtfully.

"Where is he gone?" Tirion asked uncomfortably when I returned to the fire and sat down opposite him.

"To hunt again. And then to sleep. I take the watch this night" I added. "He might return, and you will not want to meet him alone"

"Indeed not" Tirion mumbled.

The next day we finally reached a cave which at least deserved the name. Here we would wait for Gildor before going on further east. After the first snow, two warmer days of clear weather had followed. Now, winter was approaching quickly, and once it was there, I knew it would not leave the land for several moons.

I lay on the ground in the cave, watching my breath cloud in the cold air. So near the entrance I could feel the wind move, but out of the cold breeze I was comfortable with my few furs. Still I found no rest. _Waiting, _the wolf told me, disgusted _You are waiting and worrying. _

Somewhere close, Kel was still lingering. Probably he would be around all through the snow season. I would have invited him to share the cave with us, or at least his body-heat with me, but Kel sensed Tirion's acute discomfort and did not stay long when he visited.

Tirion was freezing under his furs and blankets and unable to sleep. He would have done well with Kel warming him a bit. I listened to him rolling and tossing for a while more.

_Stupid boy._

I sat up and pushed two more hides towards Tirion.

"Here"

Tirion jerked his head up, sticking it out from the mountain of bedding he had heaped onto himself, looking for all the world like an unfledged nestling in an untidy eyrie. The alarm he showed irritated me extremely. I could deal with his sniping, but this sudden fearfulness drove me mad.

"Blankets" I snapped. "Don't worry, I would not even think of offering to share the furs for the risk of having you drop dead with shock"

"Stop mocking me" Tirion said sharply, though he coloured slightly.

I snorted softly. The younger elf had not been able to face me a whole week after he had found out the nature of my relationship to Gildor. That he constantly seemed to fear advances from my side was even worse. I turned away and curled up under my blanket. Tirion's humans had a funny idea of correct relations. I wondered what bothered him most, that I was also a wolf, or that Gildor had obviously chosen me as lover. The fact that I was male, or that I was dark elven.

_Stupid boy._

_Well, let him freeze._

_Snow has not even fallen yet._

_He will be surprised at the cold _then_-_

A long time we lay silent. I could hear him shift restlessly, though Tirion obviously tried to suffer unobtrusively.

"Raven?" he asked tentatively after a while.

"Uhm?"

"I'm sorry"

I sighed silently, relenting a bit.

"Never mind"

Tirion sat up again, pushing the bedding away so he could look over the absurd heap of furs. I heard it. I was bound to react, so I pushed myself up on one elbow and looked at Tirion.

"I can't help thinking about it when you do something like that" Tirion admitted uncomfortably.

"With the humans, I heard every day how very wrong it is, and how loosely you elves saw the matter-"

"You're an elf yourself, Tirion. Though they may have forgot to tell you"

Tirion shook his head in denial "I may have elven blood, but – hell, I can't even really _see_ in the darkness" he said bitterly.

A little light from the entrance fell into the back of the cave where he was freezing. Tirion's eyes reflected the slight glimmer.

"Practice" I said "You just have to learn to use those senses and you can do anything any other elf can do"

I sat up completely and moved to lean against the uneven rocky wall "Now what bothers you, Tirion? That you think you're only half an elf, that I am half wolf, or the thing between Gildor and me?"

Tirion looked away and stuck his knuckles into his eyes. "I don't know. All. None"

I laughed despite myself "Decide on one and see what we can do about it"

Tirion pulled his knees up under the furs and wrapped his arms around some portion of the fur heap. He carefully looked past me into the night beyond the cave entrance.

_Of course. I needn't have asked._

"So the last. And what do you expect? That I would try and rape you?"

Tirion looked away and blushed crimson "You said I would be safe"

I wanted to laugh. If I had not missed Gildor so much I would not have been able to contain myself. It was hard to keep the wolf from playing a little cat and mouse.

"Hell, yes. And do you doubt it?"

"Yes. I mean, n- not really"

"Now that was a heartfelt answer" I hated discussing my private business. I forced myself to leave my place and crawled past the fire pit as the cave was not high enough to walk upright. I knelt down beside Tirion who finally met my eyes.

"Not really doubt, or not really safe? Tirion, what is between Gildor and me is keyed to _what_ we are,_ who_ we are. Because _he_ is Gildor, and_ I_ am what I am. It is a decision between us, and only _us_. Do you understand? It does not mean that either of us prefers males. It concerns _only us. _We both had mates before we became lovers. _Female_ partners. And I am not going to start a collection of bed-partners"

"What do you mean?" Tirion's voice was barely a whisper.

I shrugged, inwardly kicking myself for saying too much "Just that" I said evasively. "Whenever you start to trust someone, he either loses interest, or circumstances come between you. We avoided the first very well, but won't escape the second. Joy was mortal, and Gildor will go over the sea"

"You must have known both before- well – before you…"

"I knew, yes. - Now, will you stop fearing I would do _anything _with you? Or _to_ you, for that matter?"

After a long moment, the younger elf nodded. I made a satisfied sound "And now I'm going to get firewood before you freeze to death"

I was nearly out of the cave when Tirion's unsteady voice called me back.

"R- Raven"

I stopped, uncertain "Yes?" I asked guardedly, turning around again.

"Y-You said, they – would lose interest – when you – start to trust them-. Do you – Does that mean that – you are not going to trust me – because you – fear I – would turn away as well-?"

I forced my breath to remain calm. Sometimes Tirion had Gildor's keen ability to turn the tables on me in a matter of seconds. But it was different admitting something like that to Gildor than to Tirion who I hardly knew.

"That would be the…logical progression to that…reasoning" I said, hastily making good my escape from the cave.

When I returned with an armful of dry boughs, Tirion seemed to be asleep. Relieved, I poked the glowing embers into life and added small sticks, one after the other, watching the dry wood catch and the flames grow until they gave comfortable heat.

"Raven"

I flinched when Tirion spoke the name and looked up. Tirion had wrapped the furs around him that he now looked like a roll. He pushed a blanket down again so more of his face than his eyes was visible.

"Come"

I looked at him searchingly.

"Please" Tirion said "It_ is_ cold. Just – just come here"

I added a small supply of wood to the fire, then moved over to Tirion's place. The younger elf loosened the roll he was in and shifted to make room for me.

Naked skin warmed better than linen, but I did not remove my clothes to prevent any possible misunderstanding. I yelped when Tirion pulled the fur mountain into position again.

"Hell, you _are_ freezing"

"I said it's cold"

I had no intention to sleep, and Tirion obviously could not either. After a while he spoke again "I- know I must seem foolish. Not even the wolf unsettled me so much-. But – what I said when you left - you – have not answered my question"

"I do not want to"

"Well, yes, I imagine. What if I asked you to answer nevertheless?"

I held my eyes shut "Maybe I would refuse"

"And maybe not?"

I made no answer, waiting.

_Let's see if he does it-._

But Tirion didn't. Instead he said "You said you – also wished for my company. That you wanted to travel with me"

"I did. And I meant it"

"But- what if I could say that I – would not – leave you even – even when there was nothing left you could teach me? Would you trust me then?"

"Can you honestly say so?" I asked softly, turning around to face Tirion finally. As much as he vexed me I also felt an obligation to him. Maybe it was the wolf, who felt responsible for his pack-mates, maybe the elf-part decided to exhibit some decency. In any case, I felt constrained to answer truthfully this time, even if that gave my own defence a crack "I don't think so. And – I am not – strong enough to lose someone else again I have…let come close"

Tirion returned my gaze, looking helpless "Maybe you were right. I'm too young to understand an elf"

"Look" I said after a moment "You might find your path is quite different from skulking around in the wild and avoiding settlements and killing a few last orcs. There might come a time when you don't ever want to see a wolf again. You are an elf. You will find that forever becomes very long indeed. Don't try to commit yourself to one direction without knowing the other paths"

"You sound like Gildor" Tirion complained weakly.

I winced "Maybe. He probably would say something like that. But he had ages to decide on his path, and he still does not see it clear. Let us settle this for tonight, Tirion. The decision is finally yours. Because my path is set"

"The wolves -"

"Yes. 'Until the end of Arda', if you will. If I don't get the wrong end of a spear again. The sea is out of the question"

I took a breath and let it out slowly. That was what was there for the Ashi'kha. Nightchaser had said so. And I knew the shaman had been right. He had spoken a truth the Hawk had shown him, but I needed not travel the shadow paths to see the future. Wolves would always die in the slings of humans. And it was my job to see that it weren't too many. If I did it furred or unfurred did not matter at all.

"There will always be wolves, and so I will be there with them. The wild is getting smaller, little by little, since the beginning of time. And the wolves are wild, only wild. Maybe that's why we are still here, the Ashi'kha – we know both ways. Maybe one day we will have to be what the wolves were for us, in the beginning. Maybe we will have to guide them, watch over them-. But that's a long time still, and maybe it will never come. I was born Ashi'kha, Tirion. There is no real choice for me, and if there was, I would still choose this. But I cannot bind you to this way, just as I cannot bind Gildor. And neither can you bind yourself. Not yet. Do you see?"

"Yes. Maybe. Maybe not. But I still think, I – I will not go away. Neither across the sea, nor back to the humans. And what is left otherwise?"

"I don't know. But we will see. It will come, whatever we do"

"That's the wolf talking, then, isn't it?"

"Oh, the wolf has his own worries as well. But yes, that's him. Get used to it"

Silence. I thought he was trying to sleep, but then –

"You said you did not know any humans. Closely, that is. But Joy-"

Damn. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment. Trust me to always say too much at the wrong time.

"She wasn't human, Tirion" I said after a moment "She was a mountain wolf"

More silence. Then Tirion groaned "Oh gods. Gods, for all the world-"

He ran his hands over his forehead as if trying to squeeze the idea out. I craned my neck to look at him. He stared at me, and I couldn't help grinning. Tirion gave a feeble laugh and shook his head "I can't believe it"

"Then don't. And for heaven's sake, try to sleep"

Tirion still shook his head, but he obeyed and closed his eyes. It was long before he finally fell asleep. Kel's head appeared in the entrance, his ears cocked. He gave a small sniff, and lay down in front of the cave. Knowing he was there, I closed my eyes as well and wished that just for once, time would pass faster.

Chapter notes:

Song at the beginning is "Logical Progression" from Uriah Heep's "Sea of Light"

Kel: Ashi'kha "sharp"

I'tan'ka: Ashi'kha leader (lit. "one-walks-first"). Actually it is a Cherokee word, Itancan, which also means "leader".Tirio


	66. Chapter 66 To dream of wolves

**To dream of Wolves**

Orocarni, 4th Age 7

Gildor's POV

Summer. The whole forest sweltered in the heat. This region seemed to be ruled by extremes only. It was either freezing cold, stormy and rainy, or broodingly hot.

I knew it was not true, but at the moment I fondly imagined I was right. If I shut my eyes and simply listened and breathed, the forest remained as visible as if I had seen it in the glaring sunlight. Resin and dry needles scented every slightest breath of air. Last year's dry cones popped softly as they were baked dry in the unrelenting heat. There was no sound beside that. The clan slept the day away, and even the birds seemed numbed. Drowsiness hung over the whole land.

It was a day to spend sleeping in the shadow, to get up at dusk, play, and go hunting. So much the wolves had told me this late morning, when I had crossed their resting place. I had come here across a high ridge, and far below I had seen the even lands glimmer in the sun, a haze of hot air flickering above them.

I placed my hands flat on the dry, needle-strewn ground beside me. Even in the shadow, the forest floor felt warm. I tried to imagine sitting on the surface of a world that was, as the old books said, globed amid the void. It was a vain try. In any case, the idea did not confirm me that there was a purpose to all things, it only recalled to me that the _seas_ were round and that there was only one way that was straight.

All sounds, scents and sights here were the opposite of sea, yet it haunted me. Even when I slept, I either heard crashing surf or was followed by enticing, half seen half experienced visions of wolves. Neither dream served to give rest. The first only left me with a feeling of hollowness and loss, the second ever more with longing. Wolves were around me all night and all day, and even in my dreams. I knew their appearance, their smell, the way their fur felt. I could imagine a wolf, down to the tiniest hair on the muzzle. Once I had shared Raven's and the wolf's mind, left my own body behind in a trance to almost _be _a wolf myself – I could do that again anytime, but more and more I realized that would be the worst I could do. It would only make the loss greater.

Amid the spicy, thick air of the mountain forest the sea seemed to reach for me, the lands narrowing and bringing the far shores to the foot of these mountains on which the clan lived.

…

_High, dark cliffs stand tall above a crashing, black sea that seems to stretch into the distance forever and melt into the sky. At the cliffs' feet shines a small, silver light, and high above stars glitter. They seem closer and brighter than ever. There is no moon. Gulls call, swift grey shapes in the gloom. _

_There is a bluish glow beyond the cliffs, spreading like the early dawn light, but no sun rises. The light becomes brighter, turning from blue to golden, blinding, then revealing wide plains covered in high green grass that flows in a soft wind. In the distance, another mountain range rises, its highest peaks covered with snow. Between the sea-cliffs and the far mountains, at the end of the plain, a circle of white walls sits, surrounded by lightly wooded hills._

_White walls –_

_- You cannot fight it forever. Why do you torment yourself with things you can never gain, creatures you can never understand wholly? _

_- I need time. I will understand then. I can be part of them. I _listen

_-You are alone. You will always be alone, in the end. The sea will cut you off always. Do you hear the waves? Listen to _them

_- I hear. But I am not alone. I have Raven. Do you hear _me_? Do not repeat in words what the sea tells me day and night!_

_- Raven cannot fight the sea for you. He said so in Lorien, you knew, and you still know. You become a ghost of your own memory, of your own wishes. Wishes you cannot make real!_

_- You yourself said we should look for the crossings in the path. I am still looking._

_- Yes. Do not look until it is too late, though._

_- Go away, Altariel! I did not ask or seek counsel. I did not wish to…_

_-…to see the west? No, you did not want to. But your fёa does, and you brought yourself here. I merely gave you a nudge in the right direction._

_- The direction _you_ wanted. And I am in control of my fёa!_

…

Heat. Resin. Bark. Tree. Quiet, heat-filled mountain forest. I forced myself to relax, to calm my pounding heart. I swore under my breath. Curse the damned Eldarin heritage, curse the sensitivity, curse the sea, curse it all for conspiring to take me there! Anger had broken the minute connection, and it still coursed through me. Damn Galadriel and her unceasing nosiness! Igot to my feet but did not walk away. It was useless. I could not escape anything. Curse her for always being right!

The light fell in bright shafts through the gaps in the canopy. Insects danced in the beams, and the thin, tough forest grass formed patches in those places where the light reached longest. Pink foxglove grew abundantly here, looking almost otherworldly in the glaring sun. I stared at a large, waist-high stand of it. The Ashi'kha of course did not call it foxglove. _Lom'ashi_ they said, wolf-tongue. Just for what reason. I could not remember.

_Look for the crossings in the path. _And damn, I would do that!

The soft thud of paws made me turn. River bounded through the trees and leaped up at me, pushing his muzzle under my chin and licking my mouth. Odd, I thought briefly, but then had to concentrate on the wolf. River felt very much real and alive after the disconcerting vision. He dropped to all fours again, his tail raised, and looked back at Raven who followed more slowly. River examined the plants, trotting in circles and keeping his nose to the ground. I watched him with wistful admiration for a moment before turning to Raven.

"Well", he said, watching me "You look like you saw ghosts"

Raven said it carelessly, looking away into the forest with a wolf's all-encompassing interest into apparently empty land for a moment. The Ashi'kha way of saying _answer me as you will, or not at all._

"Not ghosts" I said darkly after a while "Galadriel"

"Ah. She of course is not a ghost -" Raven glanced at me knowingly, then dropped his eyes "That means-"

"Trouble" I finished. Even in this heat the unbidden vision had made me shiver. I leaned against Raven, relieved to find myself back in reality, familiar sights and scents. Trouble. Raven had his own cares, though the greatest part was shared trouble. That means – the sea. Time was running. We could not be together day and night, and yet we could not be apart either.

"Speaking of which- what happened to you?" I asked.

"Me?" Raven smiled crookedly, wryly "River happened to me. Keep that in mind, will you?"

I pieced that together slowly. _You can never understand wholly _echoed hollowly in my memory, nastily. _I _can_ understand, _I told myself stubbornly. I had learned, and I would keep learning. I could read the signs. The signs…River had greeted me first today, River who always waited respectfully for Raven to approach me. One of the wolf-laws that applied to us as well, here, just as Raven had handled it long before we had ever come to Wolf Clan. My connection with River was close, but the wolf had always accepted Raven as second after me, in wolf way had always waited his turn. We were a pack of three, and the order had been clear. This was definitely a complication!

"How did it happen? How could it happen?"

Raven shrugged "Just as the pack goes. He was biding his time, I knew. He is fighting for the lead. The current leader will have a hard time soon, the two brothers between him and River will not long stand against River. I thought he might attack me next, and he did. Well, he won. Now that he has me out of the way, he will tackle them"

"What will you do now?"

"Nothing" Raven shrugged once more "My position in the pack is not vital to my survival as long as we are with the clan. I can live with bottom rank just as well. I only want to be part of the pack"

The clan's main pack consisted of seven wolves, and when he was furred, Raven held the fourth rank after the leader, just above River. He had attained that rank as wolf, fought for the position and, I knew, also fought with River some time ago when the young wolf had pushed his two siblings back to become the fifth in the pack's order. But Raven's prevailing against River within the pack had been transferred to our pack of three and the way of unfurred. Now, the changed order on wolf-level would have to be accommodated as well.

"That means I will have to be careful of who of you I touch first in the future, according to your rank?"

"Yeah" Raven grinned "He won't claim my place, though"

Place and rank. Two very different concepts in Ashi'kha, and wonderfully suited for double-edged word-plays. I smiled weakly "One more trouble"

"Hm. No" Raven glanced at me "One more chance to act wolf way"

"You don't seem particularly disturbed by this…change"

"If you are referring to River – no. He did nothing I did not expect, after all"

I watched the wolf thoughtfully. River's fur was lighter than that of the other wolves, and the black markings on face and back stood out in stark contrast to the rest of his coat. He was hardly visible in the current light in the forest, especially if seen against the sun. He was one of the few wolves who could disguise himself in glaring light as easily as Raven at night. River hunted by day mostly – _khai'ashi_ the Ashi'kha called wolves like him, day-wolves. If he had the choice, Raven always chose the night. Moonless night especially, when he would be invisible.

It was all so frustrating – things could be perfect. Instead, time slipped through our hands while we grappled for handholds to gain a few more moments. With an effort I turned my mind back to the present conversation "The pack has grown large. All pups of the last litter have survived until now. Your pack will have a hard winter feeding itself, even if they keep to the clan"

Raven shrugged "River will have to prove his leading abilities. I will not try and keep my place in the pack over the snow season"

"That means you will hunt with them and not insist on your prey?"

By now I could read between the lines when wolf-business was concerned.

"Next summer I can attach myself as last wolf to the pack again. That is enough"

"Hm…River will be in for a number of fights then in the next few days. At least with the brothers. The current leader is what – ten?"

Raven smiled briefly "Twelve. He and his mate are positively ancient by wolf standards! He won't gamble a comfortable age as the clan's oldest wolf on trying to defeat River. The two will probably leave the pack without a fight and stay with us. But River might let them stay on, too. I don't know, we'll see"

That was not usually the way, but Wolf Clan's pack could afford a bit of difference "Do you think he will challenge me as well, then?" I asked uncomfortably after a while.

"Hell, no" Raven looked scandalized "He chose you as _ashk'nor_. Even if you could fur and would take a wolf's part in the pack, he would never touch you. This is out of wolf-business completely"

"Hm" I did not feel convinced "You know, those teeth of his are awfully sharp. And he never used them against me in earnest"

"He never will"

"He did against you"

"Yes but I am _part_ of the pack. That, firstly. I also was furred, and I was willing enough to try a fight, and I faced him on wolf terms and not as _ashk'nor_. There won't be much change here, except that you should remember to acknowledge him first to spare me a few nasty nips"

I shook my head "Well, I asked for it, didn't I? What with all the wolf-way thing"

"You did" Raven confirmed with a grin.

River drifted back towards us, his mottled coat giving the impression that he rippled across the ground like light and shadow combined. In his sparse summer fur River looked much thinner and long-legged than in his massive winter-coat. He reared up against me once more, enjoying his new privilege, then brushed by Raven's legs and invited us both for a stroll through our territory. The streams had grown thin in the lasting heat. The ground around them was muddy and pockmarked by wolf paw-prints. Yet the water still ran clear, and Raven dropped unceremoniously to all fours to drink, waiting pointedly for River to quench his thirst first.

"Aren't you thirsty?"

I had been watching them thoughtfully but not approached the stream "No"

Raven waited for me to cross the water "Did _she _curdle your appetite so much?" he asked.

I grinned briefly "I had a good breakfast. But she would have, yes…You know" I added abruptly "Your wolves keep following me, even at night"

Raven stared at the densely grass-covered ground we crossed "So you dream of them…like – you was one"

"Sometimes I wish I needn't wake from those dreams" I stared at River trotting a little in front of us "I wonder…what I would give for such a chance. But there is not terribly much I have to give. I…sometimes I am not sure if I am dreaming about wolves in general, River, myself, or all at once. It doesn't seem to make a difference. But then…that is the only time I don't seem to hear those damned waves"

For a while, I had thought it would be enough to be around the wolves, to see them, to be able to touch them…to have the black there. But now…now I felt impatient and disgusted as Raven sometimes did in what he then called his clumsy and soft unfurred form. But he knew the difference – he could change.

"You know" I said "I have tried and pretended I am a wolf. It…does not seem enough anymore, just pretending"

"You are not just pretending" Raven said after a while "No way. You have seen that wolf there? Do you think he would guard you with teeth and claws and boil in the hot springs with you if you were 'just pretending'? No"

"No he wouldn't. But…it is not enough for me. To dream of wolves is not enough"

Raven winced "I never thought you would ever envy me the demon-hound" he said at length "You know, I feel so foolish. Here we are, companions and lovers for years on end, and all I can think of is this stupid remark! I go about shifting and changing at will and you are caught in that body of yours"

I had to smile "Neither did I think that. But some people take awfully long to learn"

"Yes, I know, I am the best example" Raven said remorsefully "I'm still too dense to say something intelligent to you. Im sorry"

Raven stopped and I turned around to face him, puzzled.

"I'll go with you" he said abruptly "If you can't stay, I come with you. They can't swap me out of the boat or something. Whatever They do, They must let me go with you"

"Stop" I interrupted him "Right there. Don't ever think about it. You have the wolves. They are your chance. You cannot give that…you cannot give yourself away for nothing They could give you back"

"I would have you, you cursed rockhead" Raven snapped "I can't give you a chance to change, but at least I could do _that_"

I fixed him with a stare that would have frozen a bucket of water from top to bottom right here. Raven snapped his mouth shut. I could not say if he was making things worse instead of better, spouting impossible suggestions and plans. Making it worse, perhaps, in tempting me to break a resolve I would ever after rue having broken. To think of going there _with_ him…No.

"Raven, I don't want to go there with you. I want to stay here with you" I said finally "Silly dog. You have no idea what you are talking about"

Raven glanced at me "Maybe not. I have absolutely no idea. But I will happily try. And I sure remember you saying something like _happy goes lucky_"

5


	67. Chapter 67 In grey wolfland evermore

**In grey wolf land evermore**

4th Age 7

Raven's POV

Late summer.

The morning was already sweltering under the trees, and the sun baked hot on the patches where it reached the forest floor. The sky was clear blue, and there was not even the faintest hint of rain, not a single cloud, not even a light breeze.

I paced the clearing, debating whether I should get into the shade under the trees, go to the near lake or – _whatever_.

Gildor had complained about the weather last year calling it the most colourful names I had ever heard applied to climate. Today, I was inclined to agree with him entirely. The heat was unbearable even unfurred. I cursed under my breath. The sun burned on my skin, and that served to annoy me even more.

"Raven" Nightchaser greeted me from the shadows, wearing his calm shaman-faced smile. I had no doubt that was intended for me. Nightchaser felt wickedly amused whenever he could irritate me. That calm smile always served as fire to dry tinder. I glared at the shaman, narrowing my eyes against the bright sunlight.

"Nightchaser" I said "From the look of you, you have been watching for some time"

"And failed to see the cause for your pacing" Nightchaser left the shadows and surveyed the clearing, his eyes sparkling "What are you trying to do? Wearing a circular watercourse into the earth? You should walk from the lake to here in that case. We could all benefit from that then"

I remained silent.

"Well?" the shaman asked.

"Well what?"

"Well, what are you pacing for?"

"You suggested a water-course"

Nightchaser grinned "And have I been correct?"

"I don't know. I have not yet reached water level"

"Are you intending to?"

I sighed in exasperation "I could have run across the forest just as well"

"You did not" Nightchaser was thoroughly enjoying himself.

"Obviously not"

"Why not?"

"Why?"

"Why why, or why not?"

"Nightchaser, damn you!" I snarled. I shook my sweat-damp hair back in annoyance and stared at the shaman "State your business and then leave me in peace"

"Talk" Nightchaser said unperturbed "I want to talk to you"

"Well, then do, for heaven's sake. And talk sense. But do not expect me to join in"

That was about as far as I would, or could, go with Nightchaser. I tended _not _to turn my fury on the shaman and rather walked away.

"You did not run across half our summer territory because-?" the shaman ventured.

"I said do not expect me to join in, Nightchaser. That included answers" I snapped.

"Alright" Nightchaser conceded defeat "I will give you the answer myself – you are not all over the place trying to wear yourself out and instead you're cooking in this hot spot because you cannot leave"

"And pray, what do you expect now?" I asked angrily "I have no power against-" I broke off. Of course the shaman had me where he wanted.

"Say it" Nightchaser challenged. I snapped my mouth shut and stared at him, trying to decide if I had better leave _now_ or see how Nighchaser went on.

"Say it you see you both facing only waves"

I didn't say it. I couldn't. I was so angry with him, with me, with the damned circumstances that I could hardly breathe. He could have asked no worse question.

Nightchaser's POV

I could afford to rile Raven like that, but I needed not have been shaman to sense the force of his flaring anger right now. Raven had changed in the long time away from the clan. I had only expected that, even more so with Niy'ashi's death. But the point where he lost control of things was decidedly lower at present than I could ever remember it having been. For a moment I thought I might have gone too far.

"Right" Raven snapped then "And I must stay here, if I do not want him to-"

I watched him, but Raven turned away

"I may be shaman" I said quietly "But I cannot read your soul, Raven, or his, for that matter. That is why I asked you to say it. Well, at least you have confirmed my assumptions"

"Your assumptions" Raven echoed "So. What.do.you.want, _shaman_?"

"Not to give you advice or I-think-you-shoulds. I want to remind you of something"

"Nightchaser" Raven snarled "I do not want to waste non-existing patience on solving shaman-riddles"

"It is no shaman riddle" I said thoughtfully "Though to you it may be such. Have you thought of _ashi'khair_?"

"What?" Raven frowned "Why should I turn wolf? I just told -"

I raised a hand to interrupt him, a little amused "You have spent so long a time among the outlanders that you do not listen correctly" I chided gently "Look for the images as well"

Raven closed his eyes for a moment, reaching for shreds of self-control "All right" he said slowly "And who else should turn wolf, then?"

"I did not say _ashi'khar_, someone should turn wolf. I said _ashi'khair_"

That was a vaguely different mental image. Raven fixed a dark gaze on me. He crossed the distance between us to stand before me. Had he been wolf at the moment he would have bristled. I was about the same height as Raven so he had the satisfaction of actually conveying his irritation and threat much better than when he tried this on Gildor, who was as tall as Hurondil and had our eyes level with his chest "You are too cunning to risk your life such, shaman" he hissed softly.

"I am" I returned his gaze. In this, I had the confidence of a wolf in his own territory "You have that power"

"I have not! And much less the right!" Raven turned away abruptly.

"Kela'shin"

I could not remember ever having ordered him by his true name. Raven froze. I took hold of his arm and turned him around "You have that power" I repeated "As for the right - that is for him alone to decide. You mean so much to each other. Think of it, Kela'shin"

"Explain yourself" Raven whispered tightly. I could feel him fight the urge to push me back.

"Myself? That would be a venture indeed" I laughed softly. It was too good a bait, but Raven was in no mood to appreciate it "But the meaning of my words, happily" I continued before he could virtually explode "Nobody here has ever had that power, Kela'shin" I said urgently, willing him to understand "Because no one ever got into such a situation as Niy'ashi's death posed to you"

"It is _not_.a.power" Raven hissed angrily "I would not have survived _at all _if Gildor had not been there. If anything, it is a failure, a liability!"

"No!" I suppressed the wish to shake him. He would kill me, probably, if I did "You may have died, yes. But you did not! Remember what those humans said? Fate goes ever as fate must? He _was _there, and now you are _both_ _here_! And because Niy'ashi's death left you as you are you _could _initiate another soulbond, you _could _even take another's fёa _through the change_ with you!"

Raven stared at me for what seemed an eternity "What right do I have even to tell him this, Nightchaser!" he hissed finally, clenching his hands, too taken aback to pull away "It is bad enough as it is for him, I simply cannot start speculating on some diffuse possibility! He is Elda! His _partner _is in the West, shaman! I cannot even think of binding him to – to a wolf!"

"You could not" I agreed "But he can. Look at you two!" I took a deep breath "Let me speak Quenya for a moment and maybe you see what I mean without fearing I would manipulate your mind. You're shielding so tight it makes _my _head hurt.

The hröa is subject to the fёa, as you prove yourself every time you change. If someone would give his fёa into your power who is not a changer, if he gave all control to you, you _could _pull him through the change! You have the power to do that! You _are_ strong enough a changer!"

"And what would he have, shaman? A wolf body without _any _idea how to control it? And his fёa? He can change his body, yes, maybe, but his mind does not change! He would still have to go!" Raven dropped his voice to a hiss because he would have shouted otherwise "Did it ever occur to you, Nightchaser, that I may not be _worth _such a choice, if ever anyone were going to make it? There are unending years to come, do you think a _wolf _could fill them!"

"Damn, Raven, think!" I growled "I have had years to try and test if my interpretation of _ashi'khair_ is correct, and Kelehan proved me right though we could not actually _do _it. But I am talking about _you _and _him, _not an exemplary case! If you soulbind, all that you are, wolf, will leave no place for the sea!"

Raven took a breath to retort but was cut short.

"Is that true?"

We both spun around. Gildor stood at the edge of the clearing, his arms crossed tightly before his chest. Raven stared at his friend in shock, obviously unable to decide if he was glad that Gildor had heard my last words or not. Gildor crossed over the clearing to stand beside us. Like all of us in this hot weather he wore only a loincloth and his unbound hair glittered golden in the bright sunlight. Kil'tor. Desert Lion. His own people had referred to the stars in naming him, but in Ashi'kha, that was his name. And rightly given. I had seen desert lions once, when I was very young.

"Is that true?" Gildor repeated sharply, looking from me to Raven. _Don't you _dare _raise false hopes _his eyes told me.

"It is" I let go of Raven and inclined my head slightly. I had intended to tell Raven first, make him believe the truth of what I said, but now that the Elda had turned up – well, _fate goes ever as fate must. _After all, Gildor was less hampered by as relentless and unforgiving a view of himself as Raven.

"The final decision lies with…the one he would be taking with him. If there is the slightest hesitation, it will not work. The fёa can not be forced" I could have said more but decided it was better to absent myself now. Gildor, too, listened very well to what I said. What I knew about fёar I knew from Hurondil and him. He would figure out what was needed. And that was my only chance. To save both of them. Give them a chance to save themselves. I did not know what Raven would do if _ashi'khair_ failed, if Gildor still had to leave. I only knew he would not be Wolf Clan any longer.

Raven's POV

I watched him go, then looked at Gildor desperately.

"That is it" Gildor said quietly, as if suddenly understanding something "That is what they all sensed and no one could place, Glorfindel, Galadriel, all of them -. Not the change, not that you can mind-kill, _that_. And not even you knew -"

I shook my head, feeling as swept away and overwhelmed as never before. Not even doing the Hawk Dance in Rivendell, the first night after hundreds of years of not seeing one of my people, had shaken me so much. I wanted to get away, think this over. Realize the consequences for us. If it worked. If it failed.

"Tell me!" Gildor demanded when I moved backwards. He caught my arm and held me back. I wanted to tear loose. I knew he was stronger than I if it came to pure strength. I clasped his hands, suddenly feeling unable to stand upright any longer. The immensity of what Nightchaser had suggested registered with me. Of what he asked of Gildor. What he thought I was. Gildor kept me from falling and went to his knees with me.

"You can't do that" I whispered "You can't even consider that! You must not! You are – you have – you have kin in the west. You are Elda! You cannot give that up for – for – a wolf!"

"Maybe not for a wolf" Gildor said softly "But a raven?"

"Don't" I whispered "I can't do – not enough"

"What you can't is cross the sea" Gildor interrupted "What I can't is stay. Not this way, Raven. I am only Brother Wolf. You-" Gildor breathed deeply "You can turn Brother Wolf into a real wolf. You can fight the sea after all, Raven"

The sun was burning down hot on us. I could feel it heating my hair, sting my back. My tanned skin looked dark against Gildor's. Clutching his hands I felt his rapid pulse and finally found the courage to look at him. I tried to shake my head "Silmarusse-"

Gildor looked haunted, but he had the same decisive expression he got when hunting Orcs. His dark blue-green eyes met mine with wolfish directness.

"We are not married, Raven, remember?" he said quietly "That is what our decision was about"

"I would never dare to ask that" I said, so softly I could barely hear myself "No one could ever ask such a thing-"

"But it can be given, do you see?" Gildor shook me slightly as I reflexively turned from his stare "Do you know how often I wished I _could _change, in the last years? How much I _want _to stay here? How much I want to stay with _you! _Would you take it, Raven?"

Gildor's POV

Dusk.

Nightchaser stood beside me quietly, looking at the slowly darkening sky. It turned from a brilliant red to pink and slowly into a clear deep blue.

"You have given that thought?"

The idea was too immense to try and think it over. If I tried reason, I only ran in circles, a wolf trying to catch his own tail. Do it, or do it not. I looked at Nightchaser, remembering the first time I had met the shaman, in Imladris. The approving chuckle at my decision to 'think like a wolf'. How little had anyone thought – .

Raven was right, one never knew what the shaman saw and what he didn't. But at the moment he was obviously thinking of the same night.

"You are carrying your wolf way to the extreme" Nightchaser smiled gently, taking my hands into his "Forgive me if I must talk business now. None here has ever done _ashi'khair_. Kelehan and K'ashi have tried some things, but short of a soulbond we won't get anywhere. And he is not willing to bind himself that way, without reserve. It will all depend on you and Raven. As I said before, the slightest uncertainty and it won't work. Not even if you give all control to him can he force you through the change if you do not will it as well"

"I must try" I whispered "We must at least try"

"You cannot know your heart fully" Nightchaser said finally "But you are right, you _must _try"

Dusk deepened.

The air grew only a little cooler, but a slight breeze came up.

"I would not have ever mentioned _ashi'khair_ if I were not pretty sure you have a fat chance" Nightchaser said finally into the soft sounds of the balmy evening.

"What can go wrong?" I asked softly.

"Nothing that would cause more harm than the realization that our ploy can not be made to work" Nightchaser said with conviction "You cannot be caught in the middle of the change or something in that direction. Nothing can harm your fёa from the outside either"

That failed to soothe me. Whatever he meant, his formulation told me there were things and occasions where that _could_ happen. I pushed it out of my mind.

"What you must master alone is your wolf body. Remember, all of us are Ashi'kha. We _are _wolves in a way. No one can change your fёa. You remain as you are. You will not have a wolf's mind to cope with all sights and sounds that come with wolf perception. You must learn to _be _a wolf afterwards. Remember that so you don't panic then"

I had wondered what it must be like, to be a wolf. To have a wolf's body. Ever since that night in Rivendell, sharing that with Raven. But I had never thought about it with the knowledge that it was, now, entirely possible.

"How do you know about that – _ashi'khair_? About what it does? You mentioned Kelehan"

Nightchaser shook his hair back and looked up at me with a crooked smile "It's my business to know such things. But no" he added "Saka'nor and I puzzled over the ancient songs for years. _Ashi'khair_ is described in several, though seldom in the same words or the exact steps. It always refers to – people – outside the clan. When Kelehan joined us and learned our language I did some more thinking and he was willing to listen and add some of his own knowledge. We decided _ashi'khair_ was what I explained to Raven this morning – turning someone else wolf" Nightchaser paused "Worry about that when the time comes" he said "You know the wolf quite well, it will not be such a shock as it_ could_ be"

We still did not leave the clearing. I waited for him to move, and he most certainly for me.

"I tried to outwit the Valar once already" I said quietly after a while "It did not work, and Silmarussё paid for it"

Nightchaser cocked his head. He was about Raven's height and had to look up slightly "But we do not attempt the Valar" he said with a smile.

Sly, I would have called it, but somehow the shaman managed to make it not look so "The fёa is in control of the hröa. Maybe in the Ashi'kha more still than in your people. The…skills and purposes may have shifted during the starlit dark, and they certainly will have in Aman. There is a literal side to what I said, Gildor, about taking your wolf-way to the extreme. The basic power is your own. Only the way is what Raven must show you"

Nightchaser paused "We will not do magic as your people would most surely call it. That is why the two strongest changers in the clan will take guarding roles. With Raven you have definitely _the _strongest changer as leader already. Ha'tanar and me will only intervene when either of you loses the focus without intention"

There was something that had troubled me much more than the thought of getting into a furred and fanged, four-legged shape "And Raven? What if…if the change does not affect the sea? – Or worse, if I…if it only draws him into this as well?"

"The change will not affect anything about your mind" Nightchaser said "It is a…side-effect to what Raven and you will be for each other, a skill that comes as a consequence. You said you can _feel _his presence anchoring you here, in time. If the – the call of the sea would affect him as well, he would have realized it long before. When you soul-bind, the strain will be gone. You will be…anchored in yourself, so to speak"

Nightchaser looked at the sky for a moment "Shall we go?"

I took a slow breath. Useless to think. Just do it.

"Yes" I said.

I followed the shaman to the place they had chosen. It was a small patch of grass in the shelter of a huge fallen tree. The moss- and fungus-grown bole was so thick it reached up to our hips. The tree would probably take as much time to rot away as it had actually stood in the forest. Raven was there already, together with another Ashi'kha I remembered having seen sometimes but not really spoken to. He perched on top of the tree-trunk, but Raven knelt in the grass at its foot. He had his head bowed. His hair was so long by now it touched the grass in which he crouched. I was sharply remembered of the day I had first seen him, with Caladur's clan. I had thought him beautiful then, and I did so now. I went to him, and knelt opposite him in the grass. Raven looked up. He held out his hands slowly, and I took them. Nightchaser and Ha'tanar sat down on either side of us. I swallowed dryly, feeling my heart start to race. Raven held my gaze a long moment 'Ready?'

I nodded slightly and closed my eyes 'I am'

I was acutely aware of the two Ashi'kha and tried to fight nervousness. Raven alone would have been a different thing. I held on tightly to his hands, feeling them slender and calloused in mine.

'Ignore them' Raven whispered into my mind 'It is only us. The two only guard now'

After my thoughts had run in vicious circles with me all day and gnawed and dug at my decision it felt now as if all circling abruptly ceased. This was the way. This was right.

If ravens could not cross the sea, at least the gull could try to become a wolf.

'It is almost like making love, you know' Raven had keyed his sending to me alone, and I was very much glad for that because I felt myself blush. I dropped my shields and felt Raven do the same. It was so easy to release the hold on my shields, I thought with relief. But to let go of the final ones was harder. Lowering was not enough, they had to be _gone_.

We both hesitated 'If we do this now, we are bound' Raven tightened his grip on me 'I must take over from here then. If you are willing'

Soulbond. We had avoided it over all the years. I had always avoided it, Silmarussё had, Glorfindel had. Raven had. And here we were, on the edge of doing just that. It had been painful, in Lorien. We had gone right to the edge, where we were now, almost, and then backed away. Raven had relinquished all his shields then, not I. This, we would do together.

"No one expects you to take Niy'ashi's place" Nightchaser had said "But only the void he left makes it possible for you two to repeat it"

'I am' I dissolved all protections around my fёa, neatly and in the blink of an eye. I heard Raven gasp, but could not concentrate on the outer world any more. In answer Raven simply let go of all his powerful shields at once, including his inmost protections. That was not neat, and they vanished with a mental pop, the shock making us both reel. I felt steadying hands on my back, murmuring, and slowly the diffuse pain receded.

The principle of fёaraika. Fёa and hröa backlash upon each other.

'Couldn't you have done that gently, just once?' I asked Raven wryly when I could think straight again.

'Sorry'

It was strange, and very disconcerting to mind-speak without shields. Strictly seen, I thought, this was mind-speech no longer. We were still Gildor and Raven, and yet almost one. The _almost _made the difference to before. There was nothing anymore between us, yet without depriving either of identity or freedom.

Instead of frightening, that felt right. Powerful. And it was different from fёa-raika. It took us some time to sort through the moment.

Wolf and Raven. Wolf-Raven. Raven-wolf. No matter. Kela'shin.

Raven tugged at me, seemed to move forward though there were no directions anymore. The wolf was there, strong, completely alien, and still –

'I know him – you - '

'Yes' Raven's fёa, wild and strange and yet familiar closed the final distance between us 'Come with me?'

I tried to discern the feelings. I felt like standing on a high ledge, with firm rock at my back. The sea was rushing in my ears, roaring like a stormwind. Raven waited, hovering somewhere, anxious. _I tarry _I suddenly realized _I must go with him _now _or never. _Unfamiliar territory. I knew Raven, knew Raven-wolf, knew the wild wolves. But there was no border here – wolf and Raven were one, just as he and I were one.

I tried to centre myself, let go of any perception I still maintained to the outside world and felt Raven taking over…everything.

My world, whatever that was at the moment, turned upside down and inside out, twisted and writhed. I lost all control and orientation of who and what I was and went with flow, concentrating on Raven.

It took me a long moment to realize things had shifted. I was caught somewhere. Frightened. 'You are not!'

'Raven!'

'Of course'

I felt incredible relief wash over me. Raven's presence shifted things into perspective. The wolf was self-centred. If you took everything away, all conceits of the fёa, simply everything, the wolf was still the wolf, still himself.

The wolf would survive, Raven had said once, everything, even all alone. He rested in himself, needed no leader, no support. But that was the wolf alone. That Raven had also said. _I need someone – always._

Defining the opposite.

'Lie still' Raven ordered calmly 'Control your senses. Don't open your eyes'

I tried to catch my breath. Eyes? I wondered. I did not have eyes. Why not? I was somewhere out of my body, it seemed.

Raven was hovering near, so was the wolf, but all seemed foggy. A while passed during which I coldly assessed my constitution. I was not out of my body. Slowly I became aware of breathing, hearing, of the world around me. Just when I thought I was sufficiently aware of myself my connection to Raven cleared 'Scent' he ordered, keeping my mind on an objective in the swirl 'Tell me'

'Grass' The strong smell of grass, earth, forest, all split up into a myriad of scents he had no name or even concept for. More scents – not of growing things. Very close.

'Nightchaser' Raven supplied 'Ha'tanar' Raven was somewhere, and yet completely with me. Another scent –

'Me' Raven stated with a chuckle 'Now listen'

I was still – somewhere. Not in the spirit world, but not yet completely in the real world. Nightchaser said I could not get stuck.

'You are not._ I_ am only holding you back. Please, stop fighting me. It is really – draining. Listen now'

Had I been able to, I would have blinked 'Too many sounds'

Raven moved even closer offered a connection I would _never _have given credit of being possible. I listened with someone else's ears, but also understood with someone else's mind. The sounds were as uncounted and sharp as the scents. The rustle of grass, insects moving in it, the breathing of the two Ashi'kha, the sound of several birds and wind – it was overwhelming. I wondered what Raven was doing. How he was balancing all that.

Combined with scent the sounds slowly resolved into something coherent.

Night. Summer. Leaf forest. Unfurred. Furred. Rotting wood. Grass.

Here. Now.

I was alive.

The sudden realization jolted through me with a force like lightning. Earth. Forest.

As opposed to sea.

To Time.

'No no no no' Raven grappled with me 'This is right, take more time, wait, follow me'

I sensed Raven loosening his hold, giving me more room – I was lying on the ground – why that?

Raven caught my wondering 'Change' he whispered wearily 'Changed. It worked. Take care now. Nightchaser -. I am going to let you go'

Raven did. I felt that he lost his hold more than intending to release it. It was like falling, though I remained aware of lying flat on the ground. Something was wrong – no – other – there was a hand over my eyes. Another hand moving over me.

'Nokashi' The sending was not Raven.

I focused on it 'Nightchaser'

'Yes' The shaman sounded serene 'Before you do anything, follow my hand'

'I can't see'

Nightchaser chuckled 'Not with your eyes. This is what _wolf_ feels like'

The touch even was strange. Fur. _Oh gods - _

"_A wolf, I thought myself-"_

A song of power, Raven had said.

'And so you don't fear the night, pay attention now' Nightchaser ordered softly, relieved 'A golden wolf. You made it, Nokashi'

Slowly, as Nightchaser carefully passed his hands over me, leaving no place out, the meaning sank in and things fell into place and reality. Desperation warred with elation for a moment. I looked for Raven, and found him at once. I felt and scented the black, sensed the soft thud-thud on the smooth forest floor as the wolf walked over and stood before me. His breath was soft and warm on my face – _muzzle. I am wolf._

_It is gone – _

I gasped, sucking in my breath. What was that –

'Breathe careful' Nightchaser said 'The wolf breathes differently. Now you can anchor yourself in time. You are free as a wolf. And this path will always be open to you. The sea…has lost it's power. That is it'

'I can change at will!'

'Like one of us' Raven confirmed 'Because you have enough power in and of yourself. You only needed me to pull you through the change the first time, and maybe a few times more after this'

I wanted to get up, say something, embrace him – _you won't have a wolf's mind to cope with the wolf's body – _that was too true. I was acutely aware of – paws. Fur. A long muzzle. Bones and sinews that were set differently. Sounds. Nahar's balls, ears that could be – _swivelled. _A t_ail! _Even my heart seemed to be beating differently. Breathing and all senses were different – yet somehow the shock I had expected and feared remained muffled.

'Because you have known me so well through all this time' Raven could hardly conceal his own elation.

Nightchaser finally took his hand off my eyes 'Vision is the most disconcerting thing with the change' he explained 'It helps when you get all else straight before'

I blinked. It should be night, yet everything looked as if it was early dusk. I saw grass blades and a number of different herbs just in my line of vision. An ant walked up a blade of grass. The forest behind was curiously foggy. With sight alone, that was.

I felt Raven's mind nudge me, and put sound, scent and sight together, giving me a complete, true picture of the surrounding land. Time of year and of day and night determined that, as well as the weather, the plants, the animals living here – countless things. That could not be analyzed, only accepted as a whole.

I moved my head slightly. For a moment, my vision seemed to be stuck, the new picture forming with slight hesitation.

'Colour…comes later' Nightchaser said quietly 'Your eyes do not change. Not really, that is. It just takes time to adjust'

The black. For the first time I saw him now with wolf eyes. Stunned, I stared at the black, and the black stared back with an equally paralyzed look.

_Akh_, and _maia_. Black and silver, that was what Raven had said once, when talking about an Ashi'kha legend. Light and dark counted, not the colour – but black was unchanging. Even to the wolf eyes therefore, the black was still black. The concept of _Raven_ acquired a completely different meaning to the wolf. Not only sight, voice and aura, but scent and – something else – determined it.

'You are beautiful' Raven stated suddenly. The sending was keyed again. Mind-speech worked the same for wolf and elf, at least in my case, it seemed. With Raven, there was a shift when he was wolf.

I gave up trying to pinpoint anything. I was alive. Raven's desperate annunciation of wanting to fight Valar or sea hummed in the back of my mind. My wish to be able to do this. To run with him, be with him, and be this _for _him-.

'We made it' I would have shouted had the wolf been able to.

'Yes' the black nudged me with his muzzle. He made a curious hop, like a bucking colt and pounded his forepaws down in mock leaps, ducking so that his ribcage almost touched the ground 'Let us run' he urged 'Get up. Run!'

That was easier said than done. I sensed Raven reaching for a connection once more. It had been easy for us before. Now it worked without thinking about it at all. If I shared Raven's awareness of the wolf body it was easier to understand my own. I got up slowly, suddenly remembering how clumsy the black had looked when Raven had turned wolf inside the cottage in Eregion. Four feet were incredibly difficult to coordinate. To stand securely on _paws _even more. The theory of how wolf anatomy corresponded or diverged from elven was well known to me after years with the changewolf. But the practice of being suddenly inside a wolf body was…

'Steady' Nightchaser laughed and held up his arm to let me lean against it 'Take your time, Raven won't burst if he has to wait a little more'

I looked at Nightchaser, suddenly unable to form a clear thought. The shaman smiled and looked at me. There was something like deep respect in his gaze 'We only guarded' he stated 'and kept your connection from breaking once. All else was yours and Raven's power alone'

Nightchaser helped Ha'tanar up.

"Prey to thy fangs" he said, smiled, and the two Ashi'kha walked away from the clearing quickly.

I stood in the middle of it, wondering what to do with four legs and a tail, and thought that would pose a problem. Hunting. Prey-

'You do not need to hunt or kill as wolf if you do not want to' Raven said soothingly.

'But how…if my mind…I am still the same, how can…a physical change keep me from…keep the sea –'

The black crossed the space between us 'Because I have…we have changed together' he said slowly 'And we are soulbound…I cannot explain. Does it matter? It is – the combination of what we are – I think'

The black looked up suddenly with a mischievous glint in his eyes 'Fate goes ever as fate must. And now move! Or do I have to move you?'

He attacked, wrapping his forelegs around my neck and wrestling with me as I had seen the wolves play before. I found myself on the ground more often than not, wobbling unsteadily to remain on my feet and swishing a tail that refused to move correctly in an effort to keep my balance. I couldn't even think of using my fangs, so much simply gauging the next motion took my whole attention. Raven did not give me time to ponder anything, which was probably the best way.

When the black broke up the fight and called to me to 'Run with me now!' I followed, carefully, feeling incredibly powerful. Everything about the wolf was made for speed and power. Everything seemed perfect. Everything worked the way it should, muscles, easy breathing, a sharp awareness of everything around us without the effort of scrying.

The wolf was power. The wolf was perfect. Nothing bothered me this way, in the wild, no cold, no bad weather. If this was even remotely like what the wolf was to Raven, I now fully understood how he had been able to call the change wholeheartedly a gift.

_And how he could be so terrified even _supposing_ he might lose the power of shifting -_

We ran, easily, side by side, long into the night. I had dreamed of this. In my sleep, in daydreams, I had longed for this. It was as good, better, than all I had imagined. I did not know how much time had passed during and after _ashi'khair_. It was still dark. Raven stopped, and so did I, breathing the mild night air deeply. It spoke of dry grasslands beyond the forest, of dust and on the whole, of summer. I felt tired now, as deeply exhausted as I thought I had never been before. For a moment, I seemed to hover between furred and unfurred perception of my body, losing balance when I tried to consciously adjust my bearing.

Raven turned from his survey of the land, moving back against me so I would not fall, and looked back at me worriedly 'Are you alright?'

I blinked, catching my balance again. Mind-speech now carried much clearer hints of the underlying mood. I sensed deep worry, even fear.

'Yes' I said 'I am…only tired. But not' I probed for the restless, nagging feeling 'I am not _weary_' I had never dared to hope I might be able to say something like that, ever. And here I was, a _wolf _– and knew I was free, truly free of the sea.

'Raven-' I stopped, unable to put anything I felt into words.

The black stood close, resting his head on my shoulders. It was strange, to stand here with Raven, to scent and feel him at the same time so sharply, four-legged, furred, and finally sharing in the wolf's undisturbed sense of one-ness with the land.

'He is gone' Raven whispered 'Sauron is gone. The land is free. You need not…fear its shadow anymore if you share in it'

'No' I dared to confirm that after a while. Carefully, I lay down, folding the wolf's legs with an unsettling mixture of familiarity and utter strangeness. We were in the middle of a meadow, and a wide, empty night-sky stretched above us. A high haze blanked out most of the stars. There was no cover here, and yet I did not feel exposed.

_Am I still myself? _I wondered, unable to decide if I felt terror or a certain cool detachment. _I am not wolf either._

Raven flopped down beside me with the ease of _being _wolf 'You have shifted your shape' he said 'By the will of your fёa. Nothing else. And you are a magnificent wolf' The black looked at me, his eyes glittering in the darkness.

'Come' he nudged me after a while 'To the water. Look at yourself'

We trotted behind each other, Raven in the lead. A considerable time before I knew where the water was I scented it. It was a small pond, still in the night. The black skidded down into the hollow and drank. He looked back over his shoulder 'Come' he said 'Drink. Look'

It was as much Raven as the wolf who spoke. I hesitated, then descended the bank carefully.

And looked into the water.

The wolf that looked back at me was – once more, I failed to put a word to it. Paralyzed, I looked down at the still surface, the reality behind the reflection taking my breath away. Raven appeared beside me, a black shadow reflected in the water. I stared at the two wolves.

'You like what you see?' The black glanced at me slyly. After a moment, he turned and leaped up to the edge 'I know a place to sleep'

I cast a last glance at the reflection, then turned to leap and the power of the wolf's legs carried me easily to the top of the hollow. Slightly abashed I looked back down to the water.

The wolf was power. I would have to remember this.

Raven trotted a short distance through the forest and halted by a huge pine, the branches of which reached down to the ground. We crawled under them and found ourselves in a sheltered spot, the floor covered with dry pine needles. The black curled up around me 'Sleep. We can change tomorrow'

'How?' I asked uncertainly 'How will it work?'

'The same way back that we turned wolf' Raven was amused 'But it will be easier. And it will get easier with every time you change'

'Is that true? It…the change will be at my command…just like…?'

'Yes. We…have all the time we wish for whatever we – want to do. _Feiran tan'ha asharai_ – _ann laís annan_' Raven added after a moment.

_We can run as packmates – while the stars live_. It sounded really good.

To my own surprise I actually fell asleep.

When I woke the black lay beside me, like so many times before. I looked at him for a long, weird moment before allowing my mind to acknowledge the events of the last day. I had expected apprehension or something equally deterring, but for now I only felt wild elation. The early morning was cool and smelled spicy, with a hint of dryness and heat already in it. Sleep seemed to have made my control of the wolf body much firmer, though the whole thing still remained unsettlingly strange. For a terrible moment, I feared it might be a one-time feat, something that would go back to normal once I changed back with Raven.

I stretched my muzzle towards the black, wanting to wake him but also sensing Raven's exhaustion. When I looked down, I saw my own legs, a wolf's legs. Yellow-red fur. To have no hands was frightening, in a way. To move like a wolf continuously told my brain I was moving wrong. But it was a glorious sensation, a glorious knowledge. I did not feel weary at all at the moment, rather as if I should jump up and run forever.

The black woke, stretching and yawning. I stared at the imposing fangs for a moment. Reminding myself that I, too, had such fangs now. I doubted I would ever become as skilled a hunter as the black, let alone manage to kill anything by actually using those fangs. But that did not matter at all. _A world without sea – _that was what counted.

'I do not want to change back'

'We need not. What do you want to do?'

'I don't know…' _What did you do as wolf when you were not sleeping or hunting actually? _I wanted to run.

'Then run we will. Bet you can't catch me'

'That's not fair!'

'But fun!'

I _could _catch the black, I found out after a while. That was not only satisfying, it was positively exulting. The black wolf's unconcerned demonstration of breakfast dampened my spirits a little. I watched the mice-hunt from a safe distance, as well as the black's short meal. The wolf's nose gave an unsettling immediacy to the scent of mouse and warm blood, and I definitely did not feel up to coping with _that _just now.

_You _are _considering it, _I realized with an involuntary shiver suddenly. _You are truly considering it! _

We spent the midday heat resting under a few bushes facing a wide meadow above which the air flickered, looking out across the piece of grassland. Towards dusk River joined us suddenly. The young wolf was grown up by now, but he had become more massive in the shoulders. He stumbled over his own legs trying to approach at a run and at the same time keep lower than me, almost crawling, and whining excitedly. Raven, careful not to irritate the excited lead wolf, ducked his head onto his forepaws and mentally prompted me to half-rise and accept River's appropriate submissive greeting. After that confirmation the wolf jumped on me in a frenzy of wild excitement, nipping and growling to rout me out for a game. Mercifully Raven intervened and did not give River a chance to let out his exuberant display of joy with me. Instead he himself pulled the pack leader out into the heat and wrapped him in a wild, snarling play. Occasionally, River would interrupt their tail-chases and bound back to me, licking my muzzle and emitting a high-pitched whine. More than being with the black this was disconcerting. River took things as they came, including Unfurred turning Furred. But to receive my _ashk'nor_'s respects now directly wolf-to-wolf was a little frightening. I had no idea what the proper wolfish reaction should be except a certain measure of arrogance befitting the higher ranking. Always before, River had bestowed those tokens of respect on unfurred as the representative of a wolf.

Changewolves and wild wolves _were_ different – I had been with the black and with River long enough to vouch for that. Yet to face the wild River as wolf suddenly…

'He will not cross any line he respects when you are unfurred' Raven read my unspoken worry when he paused in stumping the stronger but less cunning River into the ground 'Only remember when you play with him, nip back when he bites. Use those fangs of yours. That are the rules of play'

Play, _kata_, the Ashi'kha said. It put all conventions of rank and place out of force. In _kata_ there were only equals. That was the implication of the Ashi'kha term, and it reflected a great deal of their way of seeing things – the hunt was a play, and chances of winning and losing were equal. Prey never was only prey – even a mouse's teeth could cut a wolf's muzzle most painfully. Wolf-clan distinguished between _onakata_, the play of hunter and prey, _katarella_, the play of words between friends and in discussions, and _arancha'kata_, what they translated as love-play. I closed my eyes briefly. My mind supplied information I considered very unimportant right now. When darkness fell, I started feeling really hungry. The black wisely refrained from offering me mice and lay down beside me, resting his head on my shoulders. River hovered near, but for once kept a distance.

'Ready?'

'I think so-'

Raven hesitated before calling the change 'Do you want me to lead once more?'

'Yes' I said quickly and with relief 'It is like I know where I want to go and what the place looks like, but the way there is all…twisted'

Raven was used to fling himself through the change in a second, both to minimize the time of vulnerability while he changed and to heighten the surprise-effect when he changed during a fight. It was an invaluable asset to be able to shift in an eye-blink after all.

This way, he had to take more time, and shift consciously. That was extremely disconcerting, even for him who _was _Ashi'kha. I was relieved.

We lay still for a moment as we came out of the change. Raven shifted his position slightly to hold me close 'Are you alright?'

'I…think so. Yes -'

River stood beside me looking down into my eyes. I dearly wished to know what was going on in the wolf's mind, but to ask 'what are you thinking?' was not a question the wolf would be able to answer. For the time being I was absurdly grateful Raven was taking time with his changewolf-business, remained where he was and did not let me go.

Without fur, everything seemed to be closer, with much more potential to hurt. Sensation of touch seemed too be heightened severely, the touch of naked skin unwonted and foreign for a moment.

'That fades with time' Raven assured me quietly 'It is like this when I change after being wolf for a very long time. Unfurred can be…frightening'

_Macha'san_. A soulbond was not there to deprive either part of identity or freedom. One could shield against the other. If we did not, it was like this. I shivered slightly, but this was Raven. No reason to doubt, or to fear. After all, it was two-sided.

'I seem to think it sometimes felt…_wrong_ to you. Like, when you came to Imladris the first time'

"Yes" Raven confirmed quietly "Sometimes I thought I…I thought you were right and I should have stayed wolf"

"Well, I'm glad you didn't"

Raven smiled "Yes, so am I. Shouldn't we send River to fetch us something to eat?"

"Shouldn't we send him to fetch some _clothes_?"

"Why? It is warm, the grass is soft, and there are no ants"

I laughed softly. At least Unfurred_ could _laugh. A wolf could not, not this way "Do you want to sleep out here again?"

"I am _hungry_! Let us go back to the camp"

"Like this!"

"Of course. This is-"

"Wolf-clan, I know" I sighed "Very well. Let's get it over with"

Raven held out a hand to pull me up, smirking a little.

"What are you grinning at?"

"Get up"

I took Raven's hand and got to my feet – and found myself clutching his shoulders to keep from stumbling "Whoa, curse it, what's _that?_"

"The reason why I was _very _glad to ride when I came to Imladris. Two-foot is _a lot _different from four-foot" Raven laughed as he steadied him until the ground stopped swaying "That also fades with time, though"

"Bastard. And you were waiting for this little performance"

"Of course. I can't let you fall, can I?"

We walked slowly through the night, River trotting beside us silently. It was not far to the camp, but we took our time.

"You" I decided after a while "are a very mean wolf"

The summer of this year was long and hot. There was little rain, and the grass lands and forests were dry. The Ashi'kha were worried, and kept constant patrols up to keep a wide range of land under their watch and, if possible, control. One stray Orc, one inattentive trader with a camp fire, and all their land would go up in flames.

So far, no one had even come near our territory. Autumn was now approaching, and the winds picked up. Finally one evening, welcomed by all, the first rain began to fall, driven across the land by rough winds. We returned from the last patrol at dusk, with the first drops of rain. To avoid the great cave we made for one of the smaller overhangs near the central summer camp which we had turned into our private lair. Thanks to Ashi'kha discretion, we were left completely alone when we retreated there. Which proved incredibly useful in every respect.

Raven changed as easily as pulling on or shaking off a garment, several times a day if he wished. I still came through the change shaking and with wobbly knees. At least I now needed Raven's guidance only to find the initial direction of the change. Once I had that, I could pull through alone.

It also continued to be a shock shifting from one mode of awareness to another. What the wolf lacked in colour and sometimes clearness of vision he made up by hearing and scent. I shook my head slightly, taking in the much brighter colours of the surrounding forest after the change back. Raven knelt behind me and took me in his arms.

"Well, Little Wolf?" he asked "Getting used to being Real, Big, Bad Wolf?"

"Really big, yes" I laughed "About the bad we can argue"

Raven snickered "About the bed?"

"Hm" I leaned against him "That also merits consideration"

"If it continues to rain, we'll have the worry of fire off our minds at least"

"So. Was that a threat?"

"A simple statement" Raven grinned and added "On further thought – take it as a promise"

"Well" I said much later that night "I see I will have to try hard if I don't want you to get much too far ahead of me in other things than the change"

Raven laughed softly "Is that so?"

"Hm. I'm working on it"

"See. We are not idle" Raven stretched comfortably.

"What are _you _working on?" I teased "The next Orc trap? Or your plans for the next patrol free night?"

"You" Raven snickered "I'll manage my plan, don't you think? Now that you can fur, I have doubly the chance"

I narrowed my eyes "I know your imagination knows no bounds, wolf. But I can't believe it works _that _dirty"

"Heavens" Raven burst out laughing "We had that in Lorien. But now that you mention it…that could be…interesting. We're wolf-clan here, after all. Ouch"

I cuffed his side soundly "Raven, you are-"

"A wolf, yes. Before you get into 'dirty', 'unbearable', 'impossible' and other niceties. And so are you, wolf, so do not bother. Actually, I was thinking of something else"

"Oh. Surprise. And what, if I may ask?" I put on my best now-I-am-really-intrigued-face, blocking Raven's half-hearted swing at my head.

"Mice" Raven said innocently "I am hungry. So I was thinking of mice. And I swear, I will get you to eat them one time. Toasted or not"

I roared "You little half-furred bastard. You will pay for that!"


	68. Chapter 68 Retracing the Lines

**Retracing the Lines**

North-eastern tip of the Sea of Rhun, 4th Age 9

_A mild breeze blew across the empty shore of the smooth, calm sea. The water was still at the moment, at low tide, and the air was flickering over the wide beach. At the horizon thick white-grey clouds gathered, towering higher and higher and adding to themselves slowly as the midday-heat increased. _

_A gold-reddish wolf trotted along the water's edge alone in a leisurely fashion. _

_Occasionally a higher wave lapped up and the water splashed around his paws, obliterating the regular tracks he left in the smooth sand. After a considerable distance the wolf reached a point where the dunes drew close to the water's edge and a deep-cut pool stretched between them and the sea proper. _

_The wolf slowed and threaded a careful path along the edge of the steeply falling sides of the pool. The water seemed to be deep blue, but when he stood at the right angle, it was almost crystal clear and he could see to the bottom. Small fish flitted through the water and crabs scuttled over the sandy ground. _

_Everything had its particular scent. Yet by the sea, there was only salty sea-smell. Everything smelled and tasted of the sea, and things underwater had no scent at all. They were visible, but had no scent. Therefore hardly interesting at the moment. He was not a good fisher, and salt-water stung eyes and nose. _

_The wolf turned away, and trotted back into the direction he had come, leaving the pool behind and sometimes re-crossing his own tracks where the water had not yet lapped over them and smoothed them away. _

_There was no water by the sea, none to drink, that is. River had learned that painfully the first time he come down here and tried to drink from the sea. Wave-water tasted vile, even to a wolf who was not picky about tastes._

_River had learned that by trial and error. The golden had known, for reasons too ancient to be recalled. Sea-water was salty. That was a truth as old as the fact that stars glittered in the night._

_- Sometimes it was frightening, strange, how easily one could lose oneself to unconcerned existence - _

_Even though the sea washed this shore continually, wet his pelt, smelled of brine – its power was confined to that. To time and wind. _

_He crossed back over the dunes and made for the coastal forest. The scents changed here, became more, and sharper defined. The grassland and the woodland smelled rich and spicy. A thousand more sounds were here, away from the waves, the wind, and the rushing of sand._

_It was so easy –_

_In a wide hollow under the oaks and pines making up the greatest part of this forest wolf-clan camped. In a number of scattered smaller hollows single members, pairs and families had made their private lairs. By scent, each of these was a fixed possession to its owners, a boundary which no one of wolf-clan would overstep without reason or invitation._

_A group returned from hunting small prey, and several wolves carried their catches. A midnight black and a grey separated from the pack and came over to the golden. The black held a large hare in his fangs. He dropped it when he reached him, snarling a warning at the grey who sniffed greedily. The black's ears flattened and he bared his fangs, flaring his ruff and raising his tail. _Mine_ everything about him said._

_The grey looked away, but was not daunted into fleeing. In absence of the golden he would have taken the hare. After all, he was the pack leader and outranked the black._

_The hare was fresh, warm still, and despite the neat bite through the spine the scent of blood rose intensely from the prey. The easiness of the moment shivered slightly, but the golden held on. _

_This was nothing new. _

_The black retreated a little, surrendering his prey to the golden. _

_The golden lowered his head and picked the hare up, holding it gingerly in his fangs. The three trotted along the edge of the hollow, making for their own lair. Held only gingerly, the hare started to slip from the golden's fangs. He snarled in irritation, lowered his head to brace the hare against the ground and renew his hold. _

_Tighter. _

_His fangs pierced the skin._

_Hold on. _

_Nothing new._

_They reached the hollow and the golden dropped the hare to the ground. The grey looked hopeful. The black growled, and the golden flattened his ears back in warning. The grey gave a small wolfish sigh and arranged himself comfortably for a nap. If there was no food yet, he could sleep without missing out important things. The black looked up at the golden, a sly look in his eyes. _

_The hare lay between them._

Gildor's POV

'We start with rabbit, and continue with mice. The other way round as wolf-cubs learn'

This way, or that.

It was easy to be wolf, to be wolf alone. Harder to be changer.

But that was absurd.

'Raven, sometimes I think I hate you'

Raven would have laughed. The black swished his tail 'Change with me'

In the night, a thunderstorm passed.

At first, the sky only lit up with lightning, and no thunder came.

The effect was ghostly.

Not for the wolf, of course. But Unfurred shivered.

The shadow of thunder. This was _shina'a'sha_, the shadow-path. Walking the wind, not returning.

Later, the real thunderstorm came, and lightning was followed by thunder the way it should be. Lying flat on the sandy ground, one could feel the thunder march the land, vibrate the earth. This, too, was _shina'a'sha_, the thunder-road. Fully alive, aware of everything on the land and of the land itself.

So the Ashi'kha said.

The storm passed near, but no rain fell and only the scent of it wafted through the forest. Low-tide had passed, and beyond the dunes the sea roared once more.

The weather did not change. All the next day a new set of clouds built up and roiled in the sky. Swallows sailed low over the treetops, and the air flickered in the midday sun. The scent of pine resin wafted through the coast forest and the sound of cones popping open in the glaring sun was ever-present. Wolf Clan lay sprawled in the shadow of the gnarled pines, talking softly, dozing, or sound asleep.

Raven was one of the few sound sleepers, which I found quite amazing. The tension of a coming storm seemed to keep even the sea breathless. Usually such days sent him wandering and pacing and looking up at the sky to watch the clouds form. Today, the two of us had shifted places.

The heat was incredible. The last time there had been such a hot day I remembered we had been in Wolf Clan's forest territory. It had been a day like this when I had found out what Nightchaser had meant with _ashi'khair_.

I went down to the beach and walked along the still sea. It was late afternoon and the water felt tepid. I considered swimming further out, where the water would be deeper and colder, but then continued along the shoreline. Not even River ventured out of the shadow today.

The relentless sun burned my skin red in no time and I returned to the forest, looking for some shade and Raven. I found him in a pile with River and another wolf, curled up in a small dell that was filled with brown pine needles and still asleep. So much for that company. I settled down at the foot of the pine standing over the dell. The wolf sometimes made it easy to forget, to ignore. But sometimes, he also made it hard to recall things. Memories generally returned unbidden. The oldest ones seemed so remote and strange - so strange, I wondered if it had been me then. Or if I was really here now.

"How do you call yourself?" Shand'rel had asked in Lorien. A good question. How good, I realized only now. Nok'ashi and Kil'tor had become part of me as much as I was Caltor of the rhevain, and even still Gildor son of Inglor.

Sometimes, for long periods, I forgot the name. Which was somehow frightening. It was, after all, my own name.

But I had not named it then, nor when Raven and I had been alone.

Evening came slowly and the cloud towers still hung threatening in the sky. The wind picked up as the sun disappeared and the breeze brought wonderful refreshment. Most members of Wolf Clan came alive with the cool darkness. Raven stretched and shoved River off his back where the wolf had been gnawing at him for some time, trying to get him awake enough for a play. He blinked at me sleepily and turned the wolf in my direction, giving him a shove "There. Go there, _he_ is awake"

River bounded on me out of the dell, and I ducked, avoiding him "Go hunt" I said "_That_'s a better idea"

"Wonderful mood you are in, are you?" Raven climbed out of the dell, shaking off pine needles and glancing after River who took off into the darkling forest, unfazed by our unwillingness to play.

"I'm not"

"In a wonderful mood, yes, so I see. What's up?"

"I don't know. What's up with you? That's your weather, isn't it? And all _you_ do is sleep"

Raven made a deprecating gesture "Cursed heat"

"Shadow-skulker"

He eyed my reddened skin "Roast-meat. Speaking of which – let's go eat something"

"Are you hungry!"

"Of course. And they were hunting today, and someone found mushrooms, and berries, and whatnot" Raven ushered me forward.

"I thought you were asleep. How do you know?"

"I have my sources. Come on now"

On the way to the camp's centre Raven swerved to pass a part of the forest where leafy trees grew. They were a kind of chestnut, but different from the ones I knew. Their fruits were not only remotely edible but even tasted good. Raven climbed into the thick-limbed trees easily, dropping the green, thick-shelled fruits to the ground.

"You know, as a wolf you should not be able to climb that well" I said when he got to the tree's crown and stretched out, fishing for nuts on the branches that were too thin to carry him. Raven laughed and disappeared in the yellowing foliage, coming down in a small shower of bark and moss. He crouched on the lowest branch and dropped a last handful of nuts into my hands.

"But I am no wolf" he said, looking down at me.

"Not now. More of a squirrel"

"Except I don't have hairs on my tail"

I burst out laughing. Raven grinned briefly but added "No. I mean, I am not a wolf at all. Not really" he swung off the branch "Nightchaser maybe. K'ashi. But not I"

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I fear death" Raven said quietly "No wolf does that. No wolf cares. Not the way I do. That is why. Come on, they have a fire tonight"

There was meat, mushrooms, berries, and indeed a small fire. Raven tossed his chestnuts into the still gleaming ashes for roasting. The heat had cooped the whole clan up in the forest, and so all had gathered for an impromptu feast tonight. After a while, with the meal finished and the last nuts peeled had eaten, members drifted off to hunt separately, scour the forest or indulge in whatever activities they fancied.

"Listen"

"Hm" I looked up at the sky, which was dark and starless. Thunder rumbled, only barely audible above the sound of the sea "There's no lightning"

"Not yet" Raven arranged himself comfortably on the ground "Soon enough"

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a nap"

"Again!"

"Still"

"What is wrong?"

"Nothing. You don't want me to sleep, then tell me what's up with _you_"

"I don't know. Just the weather, I suppose"

"Just the weather" Raven repeated unbelieving, glancing up at me "Sure"

I said nothing. What should I say anyway? All day long, the answer had avoided me, as had the question. Raven had changed, changed rapidly in a way since we had come from friends to lovers, and even more since _ashi'khair_. The wind picked up even more, carrying the sound of thunder clearly now. Leaves and needles rustled. As in the previous night, lightning now flashed across the sky, bright yellow and white, throwing the otherwise invisible pattern of the clouds into stark relief in ominous silence.

With the wolf to lead him, Raven faced insights or truths easily that I ran from my entire life. I had once suspected that he hid behind his chosen name of Raven rather than revealing his given, true name. I was right, but it had been a long while until I had admitted to myself that I did little else. At least to him, though maybe in a little different terms. The Ashi'kha had no concept of 'mother-names' which could be kept secret for a whole life. To him, I could or maybe should have revealed my mother-name as he had given me his true name. But as little as Calathaura seemed to fit I had not thought of it then.

Long ago, and so far away, this old, first name had seemed out of place, wrongly given. No storms raged over the old city, where the trees had stood. This was the heart of the realm, and it was protected. Wild, unrestrained storms full of lighting, thunder and rain did not cross the skies over the city. They were a tale of Middle-earth, of the wild lands and the other shore. Of the dark we had left behind. It was a name out of place in the soft glow of the trees.

I had not thought much about it back in Valinor. Maybe in giving that name my mother had foreseen what would happen. It was, in the end, a name that referred to the foreboding itself. I had never spoken of it, neither to Glorfindel nor to Raven. I did not think about that time, my childhood. It was so far away in both time and space that the memories did not seem to be my own anymore.

Silmarusse had liked it of course. _Yes, of course. _

Silmarusse. I would have loved to hear what she had to say to this all. Only she had known that name because in my heart I had always felt it was indeed my real name. Too revealing therefore. After the ceremony, the rebellion, and finally the Ice and the rough years in Middle-earth that name had sealed itself to me. Still few others even knew it. And though I had never taken another use-name Calathaura had always seemed to make fun of me. I had never lived up to it.

Unlike yesterday, the tension seemed to coil up inside me, making me feel like I was going to burst. Something about the silence of the night, broken only by the rustle of wind in the leaves and the far thunder unsettled me.

_I should go down to the beach for a while_, I thought. Only when Raven looked away from the sky he had been watching and glanced at me in puzzlement I realized I had spoken aloud.

"Should be a great sight down there. Whatever you're looking for, see you don't get enlightened in a flash"

Enlightened in a flash, fried by flames - the different Ashi'kha codes made a nice word-play of this. I smiled wryly and got up, but then turned back to him "Raven…Kela'shin, I should have said this earlier. I – my name is Ulyalinde"

I did not wait, but almost fled down to the shore.

Raven had been right about the view. Lighting was reflected by the sea, and the rumbling thunder flowed into the sound of the waves. Absurdly, the coming storm seemed to draw land and sky together into a motionless world, and only the wind was still moving.

I sat down with the dunes at my back and closed my eyes for a moment. I should have stayed with Raven. Or asked him along. I knew he would not come, not now. The really disturbing thing was that I sometimes forgot the name. Did not only not think about it, but had clean forgotten it.

The wolf had recalled it.

The day had recalled it.

Something like that might happen, Elrond had speculated. Maybe that was an aspect of fading. One that could not be halted by anything, not even the wolf.

And yet, the wolf had reminded me. In so far as I could claim _being _a wolf.

The Ashi'kha moved noiselessly. It was general rule to announce one's approach either by politely making some noise or by a brief mental touch. I would have expected Raven, but it was Nightchaser who had made his way down to the beach. He was unfurred, and wore an immaculate loincloth into which he had stuck his knife.

"A good night" the shaman said with a non-committal inflection, surveying the spectacle out over the sea. I glanced up at Nightchaser who politely remained standing, waiting for me to return either a ritual rejection or confirmation of his unspoken request. That was standard procedure. An Ashi'kha would approach another with a neutral statement and wait for his clan-mate's reply. I had come to appreciate this testing of emotional ground, which allowed both parties to keep face and dignity and avoided unwanted conversations for politeness' sake. It was fascinating how fine the shadings of 'distance' could be within the clan. Ashi'kha ritual for advanced learners.

"It is. Join me, Nightchaser" I said, at once confirming the shaman's request and settling whatever conversation would follow on the level of friends. Nightchaser crouched down beside me, resting comfortably on his haunches "A good night" he repeated "for watching and lazing. The whole clan is gathered under the pines"

Unspoken question. It was late, I realized. The clan would have finished their separate hunts and returned to the glade. The thunderstorm was coming closer only slowly, the shifting winds preventing the clouds from coming straight on towards the land. I had been here longer than I had thought.

"I am not in the mood for much company"

"So Raven noticed. Do not feel obliged to tolerate my meddling company"

I smiled "I have no objection to your presence, but do not attempt meddling"

"Are you willing to talk then?"

"Depends on what you call talk"

"Ah, I can hear Raven. You have learned from the best"

"Yes"

"Will you tell me what bothers you so much? It can't be the weather"

"_You_ have talked to Raven"

Nightchaser laughed "No. Did you try to tell him that?"

"No" I smiled back weakly "At least I did not mean it, and he won't have believed anyway"

"No. What is it then? You are worried about something"

"Nightchaser, what do the old songs say about…about _ashi'khair_ and what happens afterwards?"

"Ah" Nightchaser shifted slightly "A lot. But I cannot give you a straight answer if you don't ask a straight question"

I spread my arms "How could I ask for solutions if I don't know the problems?"

"You are worried, deeply, and you said nothing to Raven"

"He has got nothing to do with that. I…Nahar's balls, shaman, I don't know what is happening! I am wolf, and yet I am not. Sometimes it is like my fur isn't my own, and then I forget my own name!"

I stopped. I had not meant to tell the shaman that. It seemed too…absurd. Nightchaser considered that for a while. "I take it by 'my own name' you do not mean either Gildor or Nokashi"

"No" I stuck my knuckles into my eyes. Sometimes the whole thing seemed just too immense. I had dreamed with the wolf in the beginning, then of wolves, now I dreamed as wolf.

"Sometimes it feels like I am…losing myself. In the wolf. I mean, it should not be possible, should it? It is not what I might become as a…wolf that I fear. It is what I might leave behind. And I know, and you said it, that I do not have a wolf's mind. It is…I have never thought much about my true name, sometimes not for years on end. But today…it felt like I clean forgot it. That is…frightening, Nightchaser"

The shaman toyed with a handful of sand. When he spoke, it was carefully, picking his Quenya phrasing with care.

"What I think, Gildor of Rivendell and Wolf Clan, is this: you do not know your own power, your own skill. No one before you, none of _Khai'toh_ has walked this path. You did not only soulbind with Raven, who is the strongest changer wolf clan has ever known, even in the starlit dark. You were also willing to accept the wolf wholly, and make him a part of you. You strive to leave all that behind which makes you _Khai'toh_ in our eyes, and try to become one of us. You think it does not work really. I think it works just fine. Maybe even a bit more than you ever bargained for. The old songs cannot take into account _Khai'toh_, those who went West and returned. So I think there will be no help in them. Someone Outclan could never change so completely and strongly as you, could never gain the mindset of a wolf. His transformation would always be a purely physical one, and all else would be training. As I guessed in the beginning, and as I told you. But you have not only shared the wolf with Raven perforce, you have done it willingly, even before you were bound. _And_ you two are so close that I think it is possible for you to draw on him, the wolf's mind itself, to find your own.

You fear to lose yourself. I think that is not possible. Everything about…let me call it furring, takes conscious decision. You must will the change, even when you change as easily as Raven. To lose yourself in the wolf, your wolf part, forever or completely will take your conscious decision as well"

"But I wanted it" I said softly "I want to be wolf. I…fear it slips my control and I could not…find back. It was only Raven dropping a dead hare on my feet that I realized…Raven said once he could choose the wolf completely"

"But you do not want to be wolf _forever_, do you?" Nightchaser put in "As long as you do not will it permanently, it is not that the wolf could prevent you from returning to the other part of your awareness. As long as you don't will it to be forever there will be hundreds of little things to remind you. And it need not be mangled hares, simple emotions and doubts suffice. But tell me why you connect it with your name, and what it means"

"My p-…the Eldar do not have binding clan names, but we are given mother-names. They are…given with knowledge. They are bound to the bearer. I…was not happy with my mother-name in the beginning. I have no real connection with it, that is, I think, in terms of it binding me. It followed me all my life like a curse, but then I think only that name _is_ _me_. Not Calathaura, not Nok'ashi. But today…it suddenly felt like I had lost it completely for a while – only when the…this thunderstorm came up it was all back somehow" I shook my head "I'm sorry Nightchaser, this sounds so incredibly silly"

Nightchaser smiled slightly "First of all, nothing sounds silly to shaman. Second, this does not sound silly. But once again you must forgive me when I say I think you are mistaken. I am a mind-healer. And I know that people can forget and be made to forget a lot, and forget wholly. Their names as well, but never their true names. You cannot lose your name and subsequently yourself to the wolf without consciously giving all ties to the other world up forever and completely. And even if you, as not a born changer, could stumble deeper into the wolf's mind than you intend, still it would not be possible for you to get lost. Your fea is bound to Raven's – he at least could always call you back…Our clan-names are private, and personal, but not a secret. We do not tell just anyone, and never our enemies, but they are clan-names"

"I do not consider it secret either. It belongs to me. But I have always felt its darkness followed me. Or maybe I should rather say my life followed the course my mother foresaw when she named me Ulyalinde"

"I do not know Quenya well enough to translate that. What does it mean?"

"Song of the rain" I said "You might be able to imagine that this was… somehow out of place in a place like Valinor at the time I was born"

"No" Nightchaser smiled "I cannot, really. But I think I know what you mean, though. It did not only bother those who knew, but also you when you were old enough to see the whole picture. Yet, when you thought you had forgotten it somehow, it bothered you as well"

"It is a part of me. Of course it would bother me"

"Yes, and when it is gone, you feel it missing. That is the difference. You know it is part of you, and you want to remain so"

"It is my true name. I could not shake it off"

Nightchaser cocked his head slightly "Would you want to?"

"No" I said after a while "I have only ever been Ulyalinde. I…very long ago I was told that it was a name of…of Middle-earth. Not of Valinor"

"And here you are"

I glanced at Nightchaser "And here I will remain"

He gave a small sigh "My people say, as everyone has several sides so every name has several facets. Kela'shin, Raven will have told you, refers to the rising storm, the beauty and alive-ness of such things. But it also contains weakness, in that the storm blows itself out, and the negative aspect of vicious and not necessarily rightful destruction. My own name, hunts-in-the-night, you can peel into different layers. It refers to my ability of dreaming and seeing, and since I have become shaman, I use my soul-name as clan-name as well. It is a good name because it is true in saying I am a fine hunter in darkness. But it also says I may be chasing shadows, and as _khai'noch_ spend a great deal floundering in darkness and finding little to bring to the light. It did not mean that until the Nighteater came - it now contains the distinction of day and night, and implies a revealing quality of light. But you know Nightchaser is Onakir in my language, and _ir_ means not the night that precedes day – that night is _han_ - but the darkness under the stars in the very beginning. The old meaning of my name then could also be hunts-for-the-night, and indeed I am doing that a great deal. All the really old songs refer to the time when there was no brightness except stars, and just as we cannot translate the ancient names anymore, we lose more and more of the ancient songs. For us, it is hard to keep words alive for something that no longer exists. At least not in so far as we use language. And no name encompasses all that the person is" Nightchaser paused "You are Calathaura as much as Kil'thor, Nokashi and Ulyalinde. If you felt the dark and foreboding in your name long ago, has it not now led you here, where you belong, as you said? And as Ashi'kha I will also think of the beauty and the scent of rain, of rain glittering in the sun, falling at night, and that I would know how after long heat everything rejoices at the whisper of rain on the wind. I wonder that you did not yet see how much that name is…truly yours"

I frowned "What do you mean? _I_ do not speak Ashi'kha well enough to read between lines in your ancient codes"

"It is not about codes" Nightchaser said "But now that you say it, it even fits into our old words. Indeed…"

"Would you mind enlightening me?" I asked amusedly after a while when Nightchaser did not continue.

"Of course I wouldn't, it is my business, you know" the shaman laughed softly "Just tell me - both rain and wind are included in 'ulya', right?"

I nodded.

"What kind of wind? I mean, Ashi'kha distinguishes between several kinds of wind, and especially between wind in leaves and wind in bare branches. Which kind of wind do you think would be the most appropriate?"

"I…am not sure. The name implies far thunder as well…thunderstorms in winter are of the sudden and short sort I guess, without much wind as preamble. So maybe it would be 'wind in leaves' rather. Yes…there were no bare branches in Valinor at that time, coming to think of it"

Nightchaser nodded slowly. "In the old songs 'wind in leaves' goes together with rain, while 'wind in bare branches' comes with snow. The sound it makes we call 'whisper' or 'song' in both cases. Literally, it is both 'fleeting shadow' and 'vanishing trace', _rel _or _rella_ in ancient Ashi'kha. Because words are fleeting, and leave no trace of their passing, except in the mind that remembers them. Now, _rel_ simply means song, but it used to contain the implication of passing by like wind or shadow.

You know we count three seasons to summer and winter each. Your name belongs to the three seasons of summer, referring to wind in leaves that carries far thunder. _Kest'rel_ it would be in Ashi'kha, meaning just the same as your mother name – Rainsong. Had you said the wind was a winter wind, it would have translated as _Shand'rel_, Snowsong. Can you see where I am going? Where this 'weather' has led us? Rainsong – Rising Storm?"

I stared at the shaman for a moment. This was too absurd indeed! I flopped back on to the sand, looking up at the roiling clouds and shaking my head. Didn't Raven have a similar realization some time ago? With Niy'ashi's and his own song?

S_imilar yes, but less pleasant._

"It is the same, isn't it, shaman? Our names essentially mean the same. Or refer to similar things, at least"

"Yes" Nightchaser laughed softly and got up, holding out his hand to pull me up as well "Of course a night like this would make think of it. Oh I would have loved to figure that out earlier! If that isn't a shaman's riddle!"

"Maybe I would have figured it out earlier then" I said darkly as we went slowly through the dunes. The low pine forest was black in the night, highlighted in bright outline occasionally with the more spectacular flashes of lightning "You see how little I thought about that name? I didn't even recognize it when it jumped on me and bit my ass!"

Nightchaser laughed "Do you mean that literally? In the form of a black wolf?"

'

I took a deep breath. I remembered nights like this, uncounted ones. But I remembered none where the sea had been only the sea. Where the howling of wolves made my skin crawl not with fear but with a feeling of rightness and belonging. Where wolf-fur was not limited to winter-coats but was ever-present, in River sleeping beside me, the black curled around me – where I carried my own fur with me if I so willed.

_The power is mine,_

_I am alive._

That was Raven's song, but it no longer mattered.

_A wolf _

_I considered myself._

The songs became exchangeable. We were one, and we were both furred and unfurred.

Ravens don't cross the sea.

Whether Niy'ashi had spoken that as a truth or an assumption, it no longer mattered. There was no need for an answer anymore. The wolf was the answer, and so was the raven.

Only one raven.

'Are you happy here?'

'That is an unwolvish question'

'Because sadness is an unwolvish concept'

The meaning of fur and skin received whole new meanings. The meaning of power, of easiness of motion. The wolf knew no weariness, it seemed.

'I _am_ happy'

'Even by the sea?'

'Even by the sea. – Especially by the sea'

'Now _you_ are gloating'

'No. I would never dare to'

Not again.


	69. Chapter 69 Keeper of the Songs

**Keeper of the Songs**

Orocarni, 4th Age 17

Nightchaser's POV

„You _looked _for me on _shin'a'sha_?" Raven repeated incredulously. Unlike Kelehan he was aware what desperate measure that usually was. I nodded, once.

"I did not find you. But-" I paused, and then quietly described what had happened. I did not like recalling that particular experience, and had never spoken much about to anyone save Kelehan.

"Do you think it was the same…place?"

"I don't know" I said "_Malanela_ did not let me think much, what I did, where I was. Kelehan was guarding me. He called me back"

Raven hesitated "You…reached that…place only under…_malanela_?"

"Of course. I did not know you knew how to use the herb"

Raven glanced at me, and I saw sudden understanding in his face "I had no _malanela_, Nightchaser"

Somehow, I had seen that answer coming, but still it took me a long while to digest it "How did you do it?"

Raven shrugged "I begged a tree to watch for me and went into full trance"

Again, I remained silent. Full trance. In a state that would have required him to relive every second of his brother's death before he even came so far as to manage a trance. Using _malanela_ was something I would never do willingly if my place as shaman did not demand it sometimes. Raven had never spoken to me of Niy'ashi's death either. I had told him what I had seen in the hawk-dream, and he had confirmed it, but he never, never mentioned his own feelings or memories in so many words.

"Could you show me that place?" I said.

He looked at me, more startled it seemed that the shaman would ask him than horrified of the idea of going back. That only came a moment later.

"I can only get there under _malanela_" I said "You managed on your own. And you had no one to call you back. I want to know if it's the same place"

I was not sure if I really wanted this, or if I only tested Raven. He shook his head "I do not want to go back there, ever. It was the wolf who saved me"

The wolf again. I watched him, who sat avoiding my gaze, his own eyes narrowed against the bright sunlight of morning. It was dangerous to command him. He would obey, once. And then try to avoid further contact with the one who had ordered him so as not to get into a similar situation again. He had danced the Hawk Dance with me, because it had been the right thing. The Way. But our former closeness had made it harder, much harder to take our respective parts in the dance. As shaman, but more even as the one who danced the hawk, I had to play the part of the hawk. I had to ask the raven to let go what was gone, to give it to me to fly away with. That was the dance. The Way. But it had affected us outside and after the dance. Raven had retreated from me, not completely, but perceptibly. Of course he knew that we had taken the birds parts and his distancing from me was not a result of confusing the hawk-dancer's task with myself. Still, that distance had held all the time in Imladris, and for a long while when he and Gildor had come back here, to Wolf Clan. Only gradually, and finally after _ashi'khair_ he let down his guard towards me. He agreed to remain Keeper of the Songs, he visited me again, was willing to learn things I had not taught him before. The two brothers had spent much time with me before they had left as far-scouts, and all the time I had hoped one of them would be willing to take my place should I ever be unable to hold my position as shaman. Niy'ashi would have, but he was dead now. And though he was there when I needed help, Raven still refused to become _khai'noch_. The one time I had been more vehement in my insistence he had become so angry that I knew it had been a very big mistake. He felt, or maybe told himself, that he was now asked to take a position that rightfully and correctly would have belonged to Niy'ashi.

"I ask you in the old tongue" I said carefully "Would you do it again if someone begged you?"

"No" Raven said. We sat still for a while until he spoke again "I have done this once. Because I did not know what awaited me. I know no answer as to where, how, and what the right reaction would have been. It was a place where the…hawk does not come. We are not supposed to go there. What do you want there? There is nothing we could ever want to find"

"Maybe not" I said finally "I do not know what it is, where it is. But it is accessible"

"You can jump from any cliff you want, of course" Raven said dryly.

A place where the hawk does not come. He had said this without knowing the effects of _malanela_, without knowing how to leave the shadow-paths. Without ever having sought the shadow-paths on his own before. He had not known what he did, and yet he knew what had happened. I looked at him.

"…Let me correct what I said" Raven said after a while "I…I am whole now, Nightchaser. Maybe stronger. I would do that if one of the clan asked me for a good reason. But no more"

There was truth in his words, the truth I had hoped for but never managed to make him see. "Come with me a moment" I asked him and got up. Raven rose as well, hesitatingly. Since _ashi'khair_, a good three sun-courses ago, he had changed very much. Saka'nor had become a close friend to him through the times they had spent together as Keepers of the Songs. He, the singer who kept the melodies and rhythms and their meanings had learned the words of the old tales and songs from Raven who steadfastly refused to sing. Together, they made a whole that would never have been possible had he and Gildor not managed _ashi'khair_. Raven was no longer as I remembered him being Niy'ashi's brother, but now he had found a new kind of peace. Before, he had been of the clan, and yet no longer a member. I had realized that when coming to Imladris. Still, the only difference I saw if Niy'ashi had become _khai'noch_ was that he would have gone about that with confidence, and willingly. I often thought about this. It haunted me. There was no one in Wolf Clan right now who could have been _khai'noch_, and moose did not care if the wolf attacking them might be needed by his pack. What if something happened to me? And here was Raven, as perfect in my eyes a candidate as could be to secure that wolf clan would continue to have a shaman, and he backed off. Niy'ashi had been confident, he argued, Niy'ashi had known how to deal with people. In fact, he had enjoyed being in company. None of that applied to Raven, I had to agree to that – but that was just what made me more secure he was also a right choice. The worst thing next to an overconfident healer was a self-assured shaman. Raven, I could swear, would never make the conscious or unconscious mistake of overestimating himself or underestimating people. He accused me of nosiness, of pushing too far often enough. Though he was thrice as impatient as I, I knew if ever he would act as _khai'noch_ he would do it better than I. I just could not make him belief. When I was gone hunting or gathering herbs alone and Raven kept my place very few of the clan waited for my return if they needed any service, but went to Raven instead. And he dealt with it well. Maybe I should leave it at that, that he freely did what I could not bind him to. He had always been adamant in what he consented to do and what he refused. I did could not talk him into this, I could never force him. I could only try and see what happened if I showed him.

We went out from the camp and towards the high cliffs, climbing the hidden hand-holds up to the flat, grass-grown top. This was one of the places I went for calling the hawk. I needed not always do an actual calling, but today, as often, there was a hawk circling above the land, a bright speck in the blue sky. Raven, less familiar with the handholds, came after me. When he came here, he crossed the pine-covered top of the cliff and went down a steep path to the side, into the forest, as wolf. He followed my pointing finger as we stood near the edge of the cliff, the pines at our back. The sky was deep blue, a strong breeze rushed in the boughs, and the sunlight was so bright everything seemed outlined in black and clear-cut.

"_Cha-i_" I said "That is the word"

He looked at me, taking a step back without noticing.

"No, Nightchaser"

"Raven, I know you will not become _khai'noch_. Not yet, maybe not ever. But I want to know if you have the power of calling him"

"What would it change?" he demanded "This is too close, Nightchaser. I am not for this"

"_You_" I said, taking a step towards him "already do three quarter of what I do as well. You are perfectly capable of it and more. _You_ told me there is no hawk beyond the shadow-path. No one, no one who has not been there and did not know what the hawk feels like could have told me that"

I took another step forward and Raven backed up again. He reached the edge and froze "Nightchaser" he snarled "I do not know of the hawk!"

"_Cha-i_" I repeated "You know the name now"

Raven shook his head, then looked back at the circling bird. I stepped back and let him come on to former ground again. He was furious. Did not show it very much. I could not say if he did this out of defiance finally, if he trusted me, or if he obeyed an order I had indirectly given. He did not move forward with confidence, rather like someone expecting failure. He turned away from me. Looked up to the circling bird.

"_Cha-i_" he called softly "I am asked to call you. _Cha-i_"

The hawk had come to me so often, in dreams, on the shadow-paths, as a living bird, but I always felt elation and deep gratitude when the wild hawk answered my call. I felt it even more now as the bird wheeled into a stooping dive towards Raven. He had not even raised his arm for the bird to land, and now did so in surprise, more to protect himself. The hawk hit his arm from below and gripped tight with sharp talons, flapping great wings to stay upright. Raven lowered his arm a little, and the hawk righted himself, once raising and slicking his feathers down again, keeping his wings slightly opened to balance. Raven stared at the bird, then at me.

"What-?"

"_Khai'noch_" I said "You called him, Kela'shin"

Raven stared at the bird for a long, long while. The hawk stared back at him, round and sharp eyes glittering in the sunlight. He opened his beak and gave a thin, soft but piercing call, once.

"I am…a raven, Onakir. I cannot fly higher than my wings carry me" Raven whispered finally.

"It is the Hawk's wings that would carry you" I said "This world is a dream. A raven's dream. Death is only a raven's dream. As long as the raven dreams, this world lives. But he, the hawk, he flies in and out of this dream"

So the old songs said. The raven was dreaming the world. Raven raised his hand slowly and touched the hawk's breast feathers lightly.

"And you think I can leave my own dream?" he asked gently "What happens when the raven ceases to dream? What happens when the raven dies?"

I took his arm on which he carried the hawk. The bird shifted, and placed one taloned foot on the back of my hand.

"Then the world stops" I said "Of all things, the raven will die last. And when he does, the hawk will fly with him to where there is no death"

Raven moved slightly, causing the hawk to step on my arm wholly. He looked away over the bright lands for a moment, then back at the hawk. After a long while he nodded "Very well, Onakir. I will do this. If ever there is need, I will be _khai'noch_. But no sooner"

On my arm, the hawk spread his wings a little, turning. I boosted him up, and he took off, sailing out over the cliff. I could not read Raven's face, his eyes, none of his final motives. He met my gaze "You think a raven is a worthy companion for a hawk then, here?"

The hawk had soared high up again, circling above us. Tension I had not known had been there suddenly left me, and my heart lifted with the hawk's flight. Things that had been suspended were completed now. The circle was whole and could turn around again.

"I do think that" I said "I do think that very much"

Chapter Notes:

_Malanela_: "deep sleep", an Ashi'kha herb


	70. Chapter 70 The Dream

**The dream**

Orocarni, 4th Age 17

Gildor's POV

Ravens circled before the cliffs. High, white cliffs, and the birds' shadows flitted across the rocky surface like bizarre black creatures. In both directions, the cliffs went on and the sea washed over their feet. A faint, thundering and sucking sound when then water surged into caves at the edge, and retreated again. The land beyond was green, and in the far distance high mountains rose. The highest peak vanished in the clouds halfway up its height.

I knew this place. My dream-self surveyed the scene, half expecting the familiar presence of Altariel's fea. Or Altariel herself. She would surely have a thing to say to me now.

But I was alone, and was left alone. The land lay under a bright glow, though the sky was pearly and I could see no sun. In the distance, near the mountains, a large bird circled leisurely. Otherwise the sky was empty. I stood near the cliffs, on thick green grass that waved slowly in a cool breeze from the sea. I could hear the waves far below, the occasional croak of a raven, the wail of a gull. There was a wide, shallow valley before me, bordered by a forest of what looked like beeches and oaks. Tall, ancient trees with gnarled and thick trunks, the like of which I knew no longer existed in Middle-earth except maybe in wolf-clan's farthest territory. There was speck of light moving between the trees that caught my attention. But the moment I looked, the light seemed to vanish, and I saw that it was a horse with a rider. They came out of the trees at a gallop, and tore into the plain. The horse's mane and tail flowed in the wind of its speed, and so did the rider's unbound hairs. They seemed to be the only thing moving in this land, except that I could hear the surf down below and knew the sea had not frozen into stillness. I stared, transfixed, caught between the wish to flee this dream and the desire to wait it out to the end. I knew what was coming, and still could not believe it. A dream, a cruel dream, to show me once more what could never be-

Horse and rider vanished in the valley, for a moment out of my sight. But this time it was different. I heard the hoof-beats, coming closer, and then the horse crested the rise and came level with me. It slowed, tossing its head, and came towards me at a measured walk.

I took a step forward, feeling my throat close.

"Faire -"

'Yes' Her mind-voice. Just as I remembered. Bright glowing and serene, filling my mind with warmth. But in my dreams, she had never spoken, and I had only been able to watch.

'I am here' she confirmed, her eyes glittering 'And not alone'

Slowly, I raised my eyes to her rider, my heart thundering so hard I thought it must burst. I looked up finally – and into Silmarusse's face. My breath caught, and my knees went weak.

The dead did not ride in the western land, not even in dreams.

We looked at each other for indeterminate time. I saw my shock mirrored in her face for a moment. No one spoke, and only the wind rushed in the grasses. Silmarusse slipped from Faire's bare back and stood beside her. And then she smiled, a broad grin I remembered so well "You are incredible" she said "Oh flames, I wish you could have seen their faces"

I knew I gaped at her. I looked at Faire, and back to Silmarusse.

"This – is not the Olore malle"

"No" Silmarusse said easily "This is better. And you remember: if something's good, don't ask where it comes from" She gestured slightly, directing my gaze to the eagle circling far away. I shot a look at the telltale speck in the far sky. "This is all I could do. I asked a favour"

Then she grew grave, taking a step towards me "But this is no way of communication for the living. Our time like this is measured"

"Like what?" I asked faintly, unable to put sense to her words, resisting both the urge to either turn and flee or to reach out for her.

"Like this" she took my hands and gently pulled me towards her, kissing me. I could taste her, feel her warmth and her breath on my face.

"You are not dead" I whispered when we parted, looking down at our joined hands.

"Not anymore" her eyes rested on my face, and I could not say what she felt, could not even say what _I_ felt.

"But neither am I part of your world any longer" She paused, looking towards the mountains in the distance for a moment. "That is why our lady here was called back. She was your companion while you needed her, and now she is mine again"

I let go of her hand to touch her face lightly, then embraced her again, half expecting her to fade from my arms. She held on to me hard, and after a moment Faire laid her head on our shoulders, enveloping us with soft grey mane and horse-scent.

Silmarusse drew a deep breath "You must go back. Listen to me, Gildor. All is well. We did it all right. _All_ we did. I am fine, and I will be fine. I won't be alone. And neither will you be" Her hands were cool on my face "Go back now, wolf. Before they send you"

She smiled crookedly "I daresay we'll see each other now and then, though. Even if this was special"

"Silmarusse-" I swallowed, feeling foolish but unable to calm the turmoil of emotions swirling inside myself.

"Fare free, Brother Wolf. You paid a great price to gain what you have now" Now she smiled in earnest "And damn, I am glad you came here without fur, though"

I felt my insides do a wrenching leap "You know? How?"

"Oh we know alright" She was delighted. Faire had stepped back, and the warmth of her large body vanished. Silmarusse held on to me, though, and craned her head a little to look into my eyes "Your clan's shaman will also want to know this: sometimes, there is little difference between a hawk and an eagle. And sometimes, there is even none"

I could not bear to look into her eyes longer. Instead, I bowed my head and buried my face against her chest, in her silvery hair "I will tell him, then"

She chuckled,but when she spoke, it was soft and urgent "We did not want to bind ourselves so long ago. And still you feel you cannot be whole without me. But you must, and you can, and I know it. We both can. I have a horse, and you a raven. Know that I am whole, and want to be where I am, Gildor. Let me go. You must rely on the wolf when you go back where you came from" Her hands tightened on my shoulders "I ask you again, be able to laugh when you think of me. And I can promise you now, I will be able to do the same. Right?"

I looked up slowly, scanned her face. All the centuries I had lived, all the memories we had shared, seemed to replay themselves until now. I touched her face tenderly, then looked at Faire. Her mind brushed against mine, gently.

'She is right'

She _was_ right. If I knew these two were together and whole, then so could I be. Even if it hurt. This was the price to pay for our ancient unbinding vow – but it could have been a lot worse. It could have _ended _a lot worse.

"I promise" I said finally, and Silmarusse smiled. "Maybe the Valar are fair after all, Gildor" She glanced at the still circling eagle again, and I followed her line of sight thoughtfully "And now you must really go" She laughed "Go! Go hunt!"

The pearly light grew brighter, dense as fog. Faire and she vanished from sight.

"Silmarusse!" There was so much I should say yet –

There was only pearly light, which darkened to night as I seemed to fall through it. The sound of the sea drifted away into a soft rushing. Small bright flecks of light seemed to fly across my vision and something heavy settled on me –

"Bah!" I woke with a start and a yelp. River was half leaning against me, half lying on my chest, and drew a long warm tongue across my face. Sunlight rippled through the yellowing canopy of ash trees swaying in a strong mountain breeze, and the forest floor underneath me smelled of moist leaves and mushrooms.

"River!" I sat up, intending to push the wolf away, but then pulled him close instead, pressing my face into River's thick ruff "Gods". The wolf bumped into me, emitting a soft whine.

'Come. Eat. We killed'

"You always kill. What, hm? Tell me what"

River flattened his ears 'Boar'

"Boar!" I paused in rummaging through my bedding, looking for a shirt "How many were you?"

River looked at me blankly. Wild wolves did not count in numbers and figures had no scent. He gave me a mental picture of the hunters, though. He, two others of the pack, and the black. "Sometimes I think I know why your pack is always in danger of extinction" I muttered under my breath. Four wolves against a boar. Madness. I found a shirt but before I could pull it over my head River had it between his teeth and looked at me reproachfully.

"Oh" I slowly lowered my end of the shirt. _I should have thought, shouldn't I? No – I shouldn't have _needed_ to think. _I tossed the garment down and took a deep breath. To change without Raven giving me some direction was hard work.

"And you don't stare" I told River "You were _born _furred, grey-snout"

River led me towards the catch eagerly, trotting through the sun-flecked forest at a brisk walk. We came out of the ash trees and threaded a path along the cliffs. A few high pines grew here. They bore thick cones by now – this was a favourite place of the wolves, sunny and windy, but they mainly appreciated the squirrels that gathered here. River glanced up into the pines speculatively, but saw and scented nothing of interest. Before we struck the deer-trail into the valley there was a rustle in the top of the highest pine, and a large eagle dropped out of the wide branches. He sailed out over the cliff and caught the rising air-currents there, spiralling upward and away. We both stopped in surprise. Eagles hardly ever came into these mountains. River cast a futile glance around, suspecting an old kill the bird had raided. I knew better. As wolf, I could not see as far as unfurred, and I had lost sight of the eagle already.

River sniffed, thinking of their boar 'Not our kill. Wrong direction. Won't interfere'

Had I not been wolf, I would have smiled. No, River was right. The eagle would not interfere. _They took a damn long time to interfere in the first place._

River trotted forward briskly, his tail held high in expectation. We left the ridge behind, and descended into shadowy forest again. The faint scent of boar and fresh blood wafted towards us on the breeze.

_But eagle and hawk - Yes, Nightchaser would like to hear this choice bit of information. All wolf-clan would._


End file.
